


Love Potion no. 9

by RedOrchid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby's First Fanfic, Cheating, F/M, Love Potion/Spell, Secret Relationship, Sex Pollen, Sneaking Around, Teacher-Student Relationship, a healthy dose of snark, all the cliches!, and some meta thrown in for kicks, kind of, more like dating multiple people at a time, romance novel plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-01
Updated: 2004-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 73,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four Gryffindors, a Slytherin and a love potion gone wrong. What's not to like?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic. Read it and weep. :-D

**Chapter 1 - Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures**

Hermione Granger was annoyed. Very annoyed. Slamming the door to her room, she began pacing the floor. Every now and then she made little angry noises and said things like "that idiot, that stupid bloody idiot!"

The reason for her irritation was - as usual - a certain Mr Ronald Weasley. She'd been trying to gain his attentions for almost three years now and she was still unsuccessful. She didn't like failure. As a matter of fact, she hated it, but at the same time, Ron's reluctance to ask her out seemed only to make him more interesting. He wasn't just a boy she fancied anymore, he was a challenge...

With a groan of despair, she sat down in a comfy armchair next to the fire. Some serious thinking needed to be done. She kind of knew that Ron actually did like her, his jealousy had certainly increased over the years for one thing. She could now barely speak to another guy without Ron being cross with her afterwards. She'd tried to use this jealousy to make him realise he liked her, with abysmal results. She groaned again and put her head in her hands as she thought about the Harry fiasco.

It had seemed like such a good idea at first. She was to make Ron think that she had fallen in love with Harry to spur him into "being a man and taking what he wants in a true caveman-like way," as Ginny had put it. Ginny had insisted that this would work, claiming that the nature of the Weasley man was somewhat barbaric and that they thus never wanted anything that somebody else didn't already want. Hermione thought this to be extremely childish, but then again - she had to remind herself - the only girl Ron had been obviously interested in during their time at Hogwarts was Fleur Delacour - the poster girl for unattainable and universally desired beauty if ever there was one. And she must admit that this seemed indeed to be running in the family. Fleur was presently engaged to Bill, the eldest Weasley brother. The twins - having earned a decent pile of gold on their joke shop - dated only models (Muggle and magical), with a preference for tall, Scandinavian-looking blondes with generous cup-sizes. Percy, having dumped Penelope Clearwater after graduating from Hogwarts, was courting a more "suitable" girl - Fiona Lestrange, second cousin of Bellatrix's husband, with a sizable dowry and connections to boot. Arthur had in his young days - Ginny told her - apparently been quite the stud of Gryffindor House, only noticing Molly when one of his friends told him he wanted to marry her. Even Ginny seemed to have some of this in her, Hermione thought bemused. She was still in love with Harry, a dream she shared with most girls at Hogwarts, and her intense social life was - Hermione suspected - only a way to try and capture his interest. So far, she'd been unsuccessful. Harry, unlike the Weasleys, wouldn't dream of trying to take a girl away from some other guy, and in the constantly depressed state he was in at present, he seemed to have lost the interest for romance altogether. After all, when you know that the odds that you're going to die pretty shortly are over fifty percent, you might hesitate to get romantically involved for fear of hurting your new girlfriend. _"At least if you're a decent guy like Harry,"_ Hermione thought. _"Ron would probably want to make the most of his time and shag every pretty girl at Hogwarts."_ She sighed and started rubbing her temples to ease the headache which so frequently visited her these days.

The plan had been simple enough: make Ron think that you're in love with Harry and have him come claim you. Hermione had been very much against the term "claim," thinking it was outdated and very sexist, but Ginny had convinced her that letting the man think he was the powerful party seducing the helpless girl was the only way of capturing a Weasley man. "And," she had reminded her with a sly grin, "it's not like Ron will have the actual power since you're doing all the scheming." Sure enough, but there was still a little voice in the back of Hermione's head asking her if the prize would indeed be worth the effort even if she did win...

The carrying-out of the plan had been a disaster. Harry had been very confused, Ron had been furious with both of them, taking his jealousy to new heights. Hermione had been quite sure of her success for a while, when things were smashing left and right in the Gryffindor common room, but Ron - showing an "unparalleled degree of immaturity, even for a Weasley," as Ginny had put it - had taken the game one step further, making out with Parvati Patil right in front of her, to make her jealous in turn. The tension had been such that Harry had been forced to take Ron off the Quidditch team until he cooled down a bit. It had not been a fun couple of months, that was to be sure, and one of the most worrying parts was that Hermione suspected her scheming to have worked a little too well - Harry was now throwing her weird looks from time to time...

Hermione gave another loud groan and then got to her feet. She was going to succeed. She always did. She just had to. An idea occurred to her. She didn't like it at first, it wasn't a very honest way to achieve her goal, but then again... _"Desperate times calls for desperate measures,"_ Hermione said softly to herself. She opened the door next to her bookshelf and walked into the adjoining rooms of the Head Boy. Harry wasn't there, she'd seen him only a little while ago in the Gryffindor common room, staring into the fire. She went over to his trunk and picked up the silvery invisibility cloak. The fabric was so soft it felt like dry water between her fingers. She chuckled at the contradiction, then went back into her own rooms, put the cloak around her, exited her chambers and made way for the dungeons.

***

The stone clapped softly against her shoes as Hermione made her way down the many staircases. The dungeons were dark as usual, and felt even more so, as they acquired a certain menacing glow at night, the torches on the walls turning their flames from a golden red to a cold blue colour. Not a sound was heard except for what little she herself made. The corridors were deserted, and she smirked, remembering how this was no doubt partly due to the little prank some Gryffindor fifth-years had played on Mrs Norris a couple of days back - attaching a hundred bells to her fur with a permanent Sticking Charm and putting an effective end to her bad habit of sneaking up on students without warning. McGonagall still hadn't managed to get them off her (Hermione strongly suspected that this wasn't because of lack of talent) and Filch was morose.

At the door of the Potions Lab, she whispered a soft "Alohomora" and the door swung open without a sound. She entered and started to look through the bookshelf, knowing that what she wanted must be in there somewhere. After about two minutes, she found it and pulled a large book with a deep red cover off the shelf. She excitedly started to look through the index when...

"Miss Granger, pray tell me what on earth you think you're doing."

She spun around, shock making her heart beat at twice its normal speed. The soft, cold voice had come from the far corner, where she knew the door to Snape's private chambers was hidden. She suppressed a long line of ugly words that sped through her mind. Then something hit her - she was still covered by the invisibility cloak. How on earth had he known it was her? As if he had read her thoughts, he advanced toward her and said:

"Now, now, don't be so shocked. Only very few students would come here past midnight looking for a _book_. Even fewer have easy access to Potter's admirable invisibility cloak. And - a smirk touched his lips - I could smell your horrid perfume from across the room."

He was right in front of her now and she stood paralysed as he slowly lifted his hand and pushed the hood from over her head. His other hand, in the meantime, was raised to her chest and unfastened the clasp that held the cloak together. With a swift movement, he swept it off her and she looked up into his eyes, which were dancing with sadistic pleasure.

"I..." - somehow she couldn't seem to find her voice - ... "I just needed to check a fact about the proprieties of Mandrake root, sir. For a special Herbology project."

She bit her tongue in anger, hearing how unconvincing her excuse was. His lip curled again.

"Indeed. Then pray tell me why you’re holding _Legends of Love_ , which contains no information of the sort, when you know my personal library better than most students. You know very well that I'm not a fool to be trifled with Miss Granger, don't lie to me."

His eyes were cold and she felt them bore into her with unbearable intensity.

"Now tell me, Miss Granger, and please remember that I'm a sufficiently capable Legilimens to detect a lie - what did you need the book for?"

She could think of nothing but to give him an honest answer.

"I wanted to use one of the potions in it, professor."

His gaze did not relent.

"That, my dear, is perfectly evident. Which one?"

"The _True Heart Revealed_ ," she said, her voice having been reduced to a whisper.

His eyes gave a small blink of surprise and then the cold humour was back.

"Indeed? Mr Weasley is still keeping the little wits he has about him then?

She blushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger and lowered her eyes. God, how would she ever get out of this one?

Her blushing silence seemed to amuse him even more, and he said in a mocking tone:

"You are aware of the particularity of this Love Potion, I'm sure. I see your arrogance hasn't diminished one bit over the years... The attentions of Mr Krum obviously gave you some quite ridiculous ideas of your own charm and, "he smirked, "beauty."

His words deflated her anger and she felt tears burn behind her eyes. Maybe she was wrong after all... maybe Ron actually didn't like her... The voice at the back of her head told her not to be silly. She felt her anger return as she lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I believe that's none of your concern, _sir_. Take ten points from Gryffindor if you like for me being out past curfew, I don't care. Good night."

And with that, she snatched the Invisibility cloak from his hand and ran out of the dungeons toward Gryffindor tower, the red book clasped beneath her arm.

***

Severus Snape watched the door to his potions lab close with a small bang and let out a small laugh. So, Miss Granger was going to brew a Love Potion to snare the reluctant Mr Weasley... He shook his head. Why she was so hung up on that disgusting little red-head, he'd never understand. It wasn't like he was handsome, and he didn't have a tenth of her intelligence or talent. He supposed Hermione was a girl who liked fixer-uppers, though he doubted she'd be content with the outcome of this particular object. The girl, for all her annoying little habits, was his best student in over ten years, and it was really a shame to waste all that potential on a moronic nobody like Ron Weasley. Well well, her path to realisation might prove an entertaining one, he chuckled to himself.

"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Granger," he whispered softly into the dark, before turning back to his own chambers for a good night's sleep.

***

Hermione's anger was subdued somewhat by the exhaustion which can only be brought by climbing an excessive amount of stairs. When she came back to her rooms, it had faded to sheer determination. Ignoring her tiredness, she sat down in an armchair in front of the fire and turned to the deep red book. She opened the beautifully carved leather cover and let her fingers run over the smooth parchment. The book smelled wonderful, a mix of musk and something else she couldn't identify. It reminded her of something... or maybe someone? "Oh well, it doesn't matter," she thought with a sigh and turned the pages until she found the potion she'd been looking for.

_TRUE HEART REVEALED_

_The potion which reveals the true heart is a most potent one and should only be attempted by an experienced potions-brewer."_

She read this with a smile. As top of her class in Advanced Potions, that shouldn't be a problem.

_"It takes three days and three nights to prepare, during which time the brewer must abstain from all forms of sexual stimulation in order not to risk contaminating the potion's purity. In its purest state, the potion will reveal only the most tender and chaste of loving emotions. Should it be contaminated (which will show in the colour, being more or less red), the potion will also reveal emotions of a less noble nature. The "True Heart Revealed" is a somewhat uncommon love potion in the sense that it does not create feelings - it only reveals those that already exist in the person who drinks it. If the drinker harbours true, loving feelings for another person, which might be unknown even to him/herself, these feelings will manifest themselves, being impossible to conceal when faced with the object of their desire. If, on the other hand, no loving feelings exist, the potion will be without effect. The "True Heart Revealed" (invented in 1432 by the formidable witch Laetitia Veritas during an experiment with truth-love potion hybrids) can thus not be used to ensnare the heart of a person indifferent to the person who wishes to do so - only ensure affections and wishes hidden from view to be fulfilled._

_The effect on the drinker lasts for seven days. The potion, once brewed, is completely clear, odourless and without taste. Since this is a complex truth-love potion to induce sincerity, it cannot be forced on its drinker. It is imperative that the drinker takes the potion out of his/her own free will, knowing fully well what he/she is doing. If the drinker is forced or tricked into taking the potion, it'll lose its effects._

_Ingredients and mode of preparation..."_

Hermione stopped reading for a second and sat back to contemplate what she'd just read. It was just the potion she needed. She was dead tired of trying to filter out some kind of genuine tender feelings through all of Ron's petty jealousy. Under the effects of this potion, he'd have to be sincere and show some of his more noble feelings... She closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by fantasies of Ron kissing her hand lovingly... Ron reading a poem while looking into her smiling eyes... Ron waltzing with her on a ballroom floor... Ron -

She opened her eyes with a snap. _"Crap,"_ she thought, looking back to check the book again. To her horror, there it was: _"It is imperative that the drinker takes the potion out of his/hers own free will...”_ Oh Lord, that would be a big problem. There was absolutely NO way that Ronald Weasley - Gryffindor macho-stud - would consent to drink a love-truth potion to prove his feelings for her. She might as well buy new skates for a mini-break in hell as brew this potion.

And yet, this potion was what she wanted. She didn't want to put Ron under a common love potion, since that would be about as honest as to put an auto-fetch charm on the Snitch in a game of Quidditch. She didn't want to win him like that. It'd be wrong. Very wrong... Her desperation rose within her again, almost bringing tears to her eyes. She sat, staring into space, for a long time, ransacking her brain for a way to solve this problem.

It was well past midnight when she suddenly jumped to her feet and ran into her bedroom. There, she almost fell into her big trunk in her eagerness, looking desperately, searching and finally... with a huge smile on her lips, Hermione took out a very thick, leather-bound book. The cover was green and silver with handsome carvings and engrossed letters. She let her finger caress the smooth leather and felt a shiver of excitement going through her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. She popped herself on her bed and took parchment and quill from a drawer in her bedside table. She smiled again as she opened the book and let her eyes sweep over the title

_Advanced Potion Transfiguration - Modelling Potions to Your Will_

_by Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potion Master_

"Well well, professor. Who would have thought you'd be of such consequence to my love life?" Hermione said with an ironic smirk, turning the page.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 2 - Strange Events, Stranger Feelings**

Hermione started brewing her -slightly modified- potion the very next day. She went up to her room to check on it and add ingredients at every break, warding off Ron's and Harry's questions with period-related excuses. The first two days passed without incident and as Wednesday night came, the potion was on its last leg, only needing to mature on low fire for another twenty hours. Hermione became fascinated by how the sun made the crystal-clear liquid sparkle, as if there were stars floating around in it, and didn't hear the soft knock on her door.

"What are you doing?"

The question made her jump, and she turned quickly around, meeting the curious gaze of Ginny Weasley, who was standing by the door.

"Oh, nothing important," she smiled. "Just an experiment I'm doing for extra potions credits, that's all. Figured I should get ahead a little... what?!" she exclaimed as Ginny let out a laugh.

"Get ahead a little? Seriously Hermione, I'd be surprised if that potion you're brewing is even required for NEWT-level. It's more likely to be something you'd be asked to perform in your last year of an apprenticeship!"

Hermione smiled, not wanting to let her friend know just how much on target she really was. She decided to change the subject.

"So, Ginny, what's going on? How's everything with Dean?"

Ginny blushed a bit before she let out a quiet "fine" and then promptly went over to Hermione's couch and grabbed some chocolates that were on the table.

"Actually, we broke up," she confessed after eating half the box. She looked a bit upset and Hermione sat down next to her, asking her what went wrong.

"Well, I don't know really. I thought everything was going on just fine. And then today, he just starts screaming out of nowhere how I was a crappy girlfriend and that I was only using him to have an excuse to be in his dormitory so I could flirt with Harry, and now that Harry wasn’t in there any more, I’d probably dump him anyway... Oh, and a lot of crap about me being ugly and awful in bed, quite a bit of name-calling... - I think "pathetic botuber pus-covered banshee" was my favourite, you must admit that's rather creative - hmm, am I forgetting anything? Oh yes, there was some screaming about me moaning the wrong name in bed, some more about the way I mess up his hair and some general nastiness. According to him, I'm apparently the worst girlfriend in the world since Vendetta Austère castrated her boyfriend with a Severing Charm and then used his privates in a Stamina-boasting potion for her lover back in 1834." She gave a weak smile, and Hermione could tell that she wasn't as unaffected by Dean's words as she pretended to be.

"Did you really moan Harry's name when you were in bed?" she asked.

"Only once!... or maybe two... or three or seven times more... but why does everybody have to make such a big deal out of it?! I mean, it's just my subconscious working, it doesn't MEAN anything!”

"Oh, come on Ginny!" Hermione snapped "You know you're really in love with Harry and only dated Dean to make him jealous. Seriously, from the way you've been acting when all three of you are together, I'm only surprised that Dean didn't dump you several months ago!”

Ginny's face started to turn red the way it usually did when she got angry, and for a moment, it looked like she would say something really mean. She glared at Hermione, who glared back and then she put her head in her hands and burst into tears. Hermione quickly sat down next to her and put an arm around her shoulders in order to comfort her crying friend.

"Ginny, listen to me," she said, now in a softer voice." You'll never be able to have a good relationship with another guy if you don't put Harry out of your mind, and you'll never have one with Harry until you stop going after other guys. He's not a Weasley you know, it's not his style to try and steal somebody else's girlfriend..."

Ginny turned her streamed face towards her.

"But then what should I do?" she asked.

"Well, that depends. I'm not really an expert on these matters, but I think you must start by deciding who you really want. Start with Harry and Dean - how do you really feel about them?”

Ginny went silent for a while, and when she spoke, she turned her eyes away, seemingly speaking to her hands.

"Well, I actually really like Dean. He's funny, and smart and pretty sexy, you know. I like being with him, and he is quite good in bed, and he's interesting and listens to me when I speak and is a generally good boyfriend... But then Harry... you know how I feel about him, Hermione! I just can't help it. When he walks in the room or talks to me or -worst of all- smiles, my body just seems to detach from my brain somehow. I can hear myself talking back, acting normal and everything like a weak echo from somewhere far off, and all I can really hear is my heart beating and all I can think about is how badly I just want to grab him and kiss him. I dream about him almost every night, feeling his hands and lips on my skin, looking into those amazing green eyes and running my fingers through his hair... I've made love to him a thousand times in my mind, and every time I see him, it just gets worse. Seriously, the only thing that’s been keeping me from going into his room and just jumping him while he's in bed this past year is the fact that my brother was sleeping in the bed next to him, and even if he seems to be in favour of me dating his best friend, I think he'd go pretty hysterical if he found said friend in the midst of shagging his baby sister thirty feet away from his own bed... And now Harry has his own room and it’s even worse! How will I be able to stay away from him now?" She looked at her friend pleadingly "Really Hermione, what should I do?"

Hermione jerked a little at the question and tried to get her mind to concentrate on giving an answer. It seemed her mind was more interested in letting her body go all warm with sexual tension however. Ginny's words stirred something in her and she felt like invisible hands were caressing her lower back, making her heart beat slightly faster and a flush spread to her cheeks. Her mouth felt strangely dry and she swallowed twice before speaking.

"If you really want my advice, I think you should just come clean to Harry and tell him what you feel. He's pretty shy so don't wait for him to take the first step, just get him alone and kiss him senseless. You're a Gryffindor for God's sake! Show some courage!”

"Says the Gryffindor who's been mooning over my brother for over three years without daring to tell him how she feels!" Ginny exclaimed with a laugh "Don't you think you should take your own advice perhaps?"

"Actually, I'm working on that," Hermione blushed and hurried to get Ginny out of her rooms before the red-head could question her on her course of action. After closing the door behind her friend, she gave a deep sigh and went into her bedroom, practically falling on top of her bed. Thoughts swirled around in her head before she finally fell asleep, still fully dressed and on top of the covers.

***

Her sleep was troubled that night. She dreamt she was in a dark room where she couldn't see anything, only feel that there was another person close to her. A man, rather tall, standing behind her and pressing his hard front to her back. She felt him breathe close to her ear, lifting her hair with one hand to nuzzle at her neck, while the other came around her waist from behind and slowly made its way up across her stomach and chest to cup one of her breasts. She felt her legs go weak and her breathing ragged as the unknown man explored her body with his soft hands, spreading little fires all over it. She let out a soft moan and pressed harder against him, feeling the bulge beneath his robes.

She wanted to turn around and face him, her lips aching to meet his, but he wouldn't let her. He kept her firmly in place with the hand caressing her breasts and circling her nipples. The other hand undid her robes and started to explore her soft skin with experienced movements, going in circles down over her stomach and hips, caressing her butt and thighs, making her grow faint with the want for him. He whispered something in her ear which her dizzy brain couldn't decipher and she only registered the deep melody in his husky voice, which made her heart beat faster still.

She felt his movements becoming more determined as he spread her legs and started to play with her soft folds, tilting her head to kiss her neck and shoulder at the same time. She moaned again and moved against him, trying to reach the buttons of his robes behind her back, desperate to get them off him and feel his skin against hers. He wouldn't let her undress him, and capturing her searching hands with one of his own, he placed them over her head, tying them to soft, silk ropes which seemed to hang from the ceiling. With her body now stretched to its best advantage, he let his hands move over her again, making her cry out with pleasure as he drove her towards her climax. He pressed hard against her as her body shook and, grabbing her thrashing head and pulling it back towards him, he silenced her moans with a deep, passionate kiss, wrestling her tongue with the soft velvet of his own, drinking her desire...

Hermione awoke with a start and tried to calm her body and get her breathing to return to normal. The dream played over and over as soon as she closed her eyes and she hurried to get out of bed, drenching her face in cool water from her nightstand.

As she stood there, letting the water run down her skin and put out the fires still burning there, she suddenly stiffened and then hurried into her other room. On her desk, the potion was simmering serenely, and a sharp gasp escaped her mouth as she noticed it had turned from silvery crystal to the deep pink colour of a spring rose's first blooms...

***

Despite the now less-than-clear colour of her potion, Hermione decided to use it. "After all," she thought, "maybe a little passion wouldn't be so bad." A smile played on her lips as she thought back on the dream that night. If only she could have seen the man's face! She imagined it had been Ron, but then the Ron in her dream had felt so mature, so experienced... "Oh, you're being silly," she told herself. "Of course it was Ron in your dream. There isn't anybody else you fancy so why would your subconscious use anybody but him?"

With a sigh, she put a phial of potion in the pocket of her robes, taking it with her to breakfast.

***

First class that day was Potions and Hermione was - for once in her life - actually late. She'd hung back at the breakfast table, talking to Ron, who already showed signs of increased interest. Finally, he got up, saying he'd better get to Divination or Trelawney would predict his death for an additional half-hour, and walked off towards the North Tower. Hermione had remained in her seat for a couple of minutes, feeling giddy and successful, until she realised, with a sinking feeling, that she was going to be late for Snape. She broke into a run and arrived at the classroom as Snape was already closing the door.

"Miss Granger, you'd want to be a bit more careful," Snape said to her in a dangerously soft voice as he started to close the door behind her, standing so close she could almost feel his breath on her face. "Next time, I just might slip and let this heavy, oak door close on those delicate fingers of yours." He took hold of her hand and lifted it so that their eyes met through the gaps between her fingers as he softly let his index finger follow the outline of each of them in turn, paralysing her with his intense eyes. She felt her breath growing faster and was aware of how hard her heart beat in her chest when _BANG!_ He let the door slam shut, grabbing her hand with an almost painful grip at the same time. Hermione jumped and let out a yelp of shock, which brought the whole class's attention to her where she stood, holding her hands to her chest, watching Snape walk nonchalantly to his desk. She saw him sit down and turn his eyes on the class.

"Miss Granger, if you're not by your cauldron in ten seconds, I'm going to give you detention for delaying my class. Move!"

The cold sneer in his voice was definitely back. She took a deep breath to get control over herself again and swiftly walked to her seat where Neville cast her a worried glance. She pretended not to notice, fixing her eyes on the ingredients before her and started to measure up lacewings on her scale.

***

The lesson that followed was just like Potions with Snape usually was. He bullied Neville some and smirked when the boy dropped his bottle of dragon blood onto the floor, taking 5 points from Gryffindor. He also managed to award Harry zero points for his potion, claiming that the colour was turquoise and not aquamarine and gave him an additional detention with Filch for answering back to one of Draco Malfoy's many insults.

Hermione worked quietly the entire time, trying to block out any sound and focus entirely on her potion. Her wand was trembling - she could still feel Snape's smooth skin against her sensitive fingers. She didn't look towards the teacher's desk all class, but she felt as though those dark eyes never left her, that they followed her every movement and registered every bit of her discomfort. He was making her feel extremely uncomfortable and she was scared to do anything else that might annoy him. In her confusion, she forgot to watch out for the green sparks flying in all directions from Neville's cauldron. One of them made contact with the smooth surface of her own potion, and without warning, the whole thing exploded, spraying Hermione, Neville and five people close to them with the brilliantly aquamarine liquid of Sleeping Potion. Hermione only had time to see Snape curse and run from his desk before the world blackened and she fell to the floor...

***

When she opened her eyes again, the world was still dark. She looked around her and realised that she was in the hospital wing, which confused her for a second until the memory of the exploding potion came back to her. She immediately started to fret about what Snape would do to punish her. She could see his smug smile before her, telling her that her mark would be lowered for the semester. Her thoughts went in more and more depressed circles when they were interrupted by someone taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

She turned her head to see who was there and met worried, deep-green eyes. She smiled faintly and saw the other face respond with a small smile of its own.

"Welcome back, Hermione," Harry said in a soft voice, lifting her hand to his face and pressing it against his cheek. "I was worried about you." He moved her hand against his soft skin and turned his head to place a kiss in her palm. She felt her throat thicken, and when she spoke, her voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

"I feel just fine, Harry. There's no need for you to worry about me. Seriously, it was just a stupid sleeping potion..."

Trying to reassure him, she let her fingers move over his cheek and into his hair, playing with some silky strands and massaging the back of his head. He drew a sharp breath and she felt a tremble going through him. "He's really upset!" she thought, anxiously.

"Really Harry, I'm quite all right. Just calm down, please!" she pleaded.

His eyes met hers and she noticed a burning glow deep inside them. He moved closer, sitting down next to her on the bed, and leaned down to push some stray curls from her face.

"When I saw you fall to the floor, my insides just froze, Hermione. I know it's stupid, but you looked just like Sirius when he fell through that damned veil! Even the expression on your face was the same, that look of surprise... not realising..." His voice was trembling now and she could see his eyes getting shinier, could see the tears he was fighting to keep back... He leaned even closer, so that he came to rest his forehead against hers, his fingers caressing her cheek and her hair as if they were moving on their own accord... His voice shook even more as he continued.

"I thought you were dead --- and it was the worst moment of my life. It... it was like a thousand Dementors had come for me at once... and I... I just couldn't think... It hurt so much Hermione! I thought nothing could hurt more than it did when Sirius died, but I was wrong... so wrong! Watching you fall, it was beyond torture, beyond the pain of Cruciatus or possession... It was just unbearable. Oh God, I'm so happy you're not dead!"

Tears started to run from his eyes and she pulled him up next to her on the bed and into a hug, stroking him in comfort.

"Hush Harry, I'm alright... shh... I'm just fine, I promise..." she whispered in his ear, trying to ease his pain, trying to get him to calm down and see that there was nothing to worry about.

He hugged her tighter and then came back to rest his head against her forehead, looking deep into her eyes and caressing her face.

"You're alive... you're really here..." he mumbled, touching every part of her face like he wanted to make sure she wasn't just an illusion. "Thank God, you’re still here... losing you... I just can't... I just love you too much Hermione..."

And then he kissed her, bending his head and taking her lips with a passion she'd never suspected in him. She felt his tears wet her face as he entangled both his hands in her curls and pulled her to him to deepen the kiss. She could feel his need and desperation to prove to himself that she was really there, and her heart went out to him. Her head started to twirl and she felt dizzy and confused and touched that he cared so much about her. Her hands buried themselves in his already messy black hair and she kissed him back, opening her heart and pouring all her love into their kiss, trying to bring him back to the light.

After several minutes, the desperation faded from his touch and his kisses became softer, more lingering. He slowly explored her mouth with his tongue and then broke their connection after a last, soft kiss. They stared into each other's eyes, amazed by the kiss they'd just shared and the feelings that had seemed to flow between two connected hearts. Hermione did not know how long they stayed like that. She was brutally pulled back to reality by the sudden sound of footsteps, walking up the stone steps to the Hospital Wing. She looked back at Harry and saw him smile softly before he whispered "Bye Hermione" and slid quietly from the bed, disappearing under his invisibility cloak and moving quietly down the corridor towards the exit.

She saw the door slid open and close with a soft "thud". Seconds later it opened again, and a dark figure made its way purposefully towards her bed.

***

Hermione heard the steps come closer and turned her head to the side, pretending to be asleep. She was still too stunned by what had just passed between her and Harry to talk to somebody else. Also, the steps had suggested an adult and she really didn't feel like talking to any of the teachers right now - it was probably just Professor Dumbledore coming to check on her anyway...

She felt the person come to a stop next to her bed, and with a small shock, she felt her blanket slowly being pulled off her. Cool night air stroked her body and she gave an involuntary shiver as her skin reacted to the cold air. Pretending to wake up, she turned her head slowly and met the eyes of her Potions professor.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said in his dangerously soft voice. "I figured that the effects of the potion you splattered yourself with this morning should have worn off by now. After all, the other students were fit to go back to their normal activities by dinner."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She was freezing and so she sat up, trying to reach the blanket, which was now at her feet, and pull it back to her chin. Before she could reach it, two strong hands pressed her back against the mattress, leaving the blanket at the end of the bed.

"I wasn't finished, Miss Granger," he said, as he leaned over her, holding her down. "It's considered common courtesy in the wizarding world to keep still and quiet until the person who talks to you has had his say." His lip curled. "But then again, as a Muggle-born, I guess you wouldn't be too familiar with the more civilised ways of address and conversation... interesting to know that even an irksome little know-it-all such as yourself has its limits..."

Hermione felt a pang of emotion at the comment. Tears welled up behind her eyes but she forced them back. She would not give Snape the satisfaction of knowing that he'd hurt her. She looked up at him defiantly.

"If you don't mind, Professor, I would very much like to have my blanket back and go to sleep. I don't think Madam Pomfrey will approve if I get a cold and you'd probably want to release me as well - holding one of your students down on a bed in the middle of the night isn't exactly proper behaviour, now is it?"

Anger flashed in his eyes, and in one swift movement, he took hold of her wrists and pinned them down above her head with one hand as he traced the soft skin of her inner arm with one long finger.

"Not proper behaviour, you say?" he said in silky tones. He was leaning closer to her now, black fire burning in his eyes, and she felt a rich, musky scent surround her. "Well, I don't think you should be the one to talk, considering your embarrassing attempt at seduction in my class earlier today. Your body betrays you at every turn - it's pathetic really how little control you have over it..."

As if he wanted to prove his point, he let his finger follow her arm and slide over the soft fabric of her thin nightgown down along her side. She felt her breathing become more difficult and closed her eyes, desperate to fight the heat he was bringing forth in her skin, putting all her forces into appearing indifferent to his touch. _"Really,"_ she thought, _"what on earth is he talking about? I haven't done anything to him! God, what a repulsing thought! I was still a bit excited about Ron this morning, that's all..."_

She took in a sharp breath and her eyes snapped open when his hand suddenly came to circle her nipple and then cup her breast firmly.

"Professor!" she croaked, twisting her body, trying to get her hands free. "Stop this! You've got it all wrong! I wouldn't want your hands on me if you were the last man on earth! Let me go!"

The look in his eyes grew even more intense and she felt branded by the way his gaze swept over her body. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, "Oh yes, I can see that by the way your heart positively pounds in your chest and your nipples harden at my touch." He bent his head down to her right ear and lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "I know the female body Miss Granger. Make no mistake, if I wanted to, I could -with very little effort - make you beg for me to take you right here in this bed, with the risk of Madam Pomfrey or any other teacher walking in at any moment."

His right hand started to play with her nipple and she let out a moan, her body arching to press against his hand seemingly of its own accord. He chuckled and let his hand move lower, tracing intricate figures on her stomach and thighs. She felt her body move and arch to his touch, yearning for the delicious fire his fingers lit in her skin. Her head was spinning out of control and she couldn't seem to think at all. She gasped as a finger brushed against her most sensitive point, rubbing it lightly through the fabric. She tried to speak, but only moans of pleasure escaped her, making Snape's breathing quicken along with his touch.

Then, as suddenly as he'd grabbed her in the first place, his hands left her and he stood up, looking down at her with a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I think I've got the point across," he said coldly. "Don't play with fire, Miss Granger, or you might just find your self consumed by it. Luckily for you, I don't find you nearly attractive enough to prove _that_ statement to you"

He started walking towards the door, when he turned and shot her one last look

"Oh, and you have detention tomorrow night at eight because of your abysmal handling of your Sleeping Potion. I'll see you in my office then. Good night."

And with those words, he walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Hermione in her bed trembling from unfulfilled desire and wondering what in hell had just happened.

***

"What the _hell_ just happened?!"

The same thought went through the minds of three people in a very short space of time.

Harry was walking up the stairs to the astronomy tower, feeling like he needed some cool air to clear his head. What in the name of Merlin had got into him back there? He'd just snogged his best friend! What on earth had made him do it?

He reached the top of the tower and sat down in an alcove in the stone wall, looking out over the grounds and up at the stars in the sky. He felt very confused. Confused about the fact that he'd just kissed Hermione. Confused because of what he'd felt when doing it, and most confused about the way she'd kissed him back…

He drew a deep breath and let the memory wash over him. It had been his first kiss since Cho surprised him under the mistletoe just before Christmas in his fifth year – now a little more than a year ago – and he had to admit that the kiss he'd shared with Hermione had been completely different from that. _"Well,"_ he thought, _"not entirely different, there always seems to be tears involved somehow..."_ He sighed, but realised that he didn't feel embarrassed by the fact that he'd cried in front of her. Lying there next to her, feeling her soft breathing and her nice smell had made him feel better than he had felt for a very long time. He trusted her... and he loved her. Being so completely honest had been a cleansing experience, like dark shadows were poured out of him. And then the kiss...

Harry closed his eyes and remembered the feel of her lips against his, softly moving, her tongue caressing his... He could still taste her in his mouth and the memory brought a smile to his lips. He still couldn't understand why he'd done it, he'd just felt such an incredible need to at the time, he just couldn't explain it...

And the feelings it had brought with it! Kissing Cho had made him feel a bit tingly and uncomfortable (but he guessed the discomfort was mainly because she'd been crying) and afterwards he'd felt both a bit shocked and a bit elated. His body had been excited and unpredictable around Cho, blushing and hardening and doing other embarrassing things that he had been desperate to hide from her. Kissing Hermione had been completely different. It had felt as though his heart was filling with joy and light was soaring through his body and soul. It was pure and glorious and mystical and it left him feeling incredibly strong. It was like the exact opposite of a Dementor attack, making him forget all that was dark and pulling him into a bright, happy world through the connection of their hearts.

She loved him. He knew - he'd felt it. He was surer of this than of anything - he'd felt her love for him in their kiss, in her touch, in the incredible connection that had been forged between them. She loved him, and he knew he loved her back - he'd even said it to her...

He opened his eyes, staring up into the heavens, searching for some answer up in the diamond-covered sky. He knew they loved each other, but he was unsure what that meant. Was she supposed to be his girlfriend now? God, Ron would kill him! It'd been hard enough to convince him of his disinterest in Hermione last time around. If he -Harry- actually started dating her after this, Ron would go ballistic! And he wasn't even sure he _wanted_ Hermione for his girlfriend... He tried thinking of snogging her the way Seamus and Lavender usually carried on (Harry thought it looked more like sex with your clothes on than kissing) and immediately felt weird. Their kiss had had an almost unearthly feeling to it, a touch of the sublime which didn't match with common physical attraction...

"And here I thought you were only friends," an angry, sarcastic voice interrupted his thoughts. He snapped his head around, meeting the accusing gaze, directed at him from an alcove twenty feet away. Not knowing what to do or how to respond, he simply held that gaze while the other stood up and started walking towards him...

***

Severus Snape closed the door to his chambers with a loud "bang" and leant heavily against it, trying to take control over his body. He tried closing his eyes and breathing deeply, but immediately saw her body flash before his eyes and felt her enticing smell fill his nostrils. This was no good. He swiftly walked into the bathroom and stepped, without even bothering to take his robes off, into a freezing shower.

When he came out, his body had gone back to normal and his mind seemed to be functioning again. He sighed with relief as he got rid of his wet clothes with a wave of his wand and slipped into a deep-green bathrobe. Slowly, he sat into a comfortable chair in front of the fire and conjured a silver goblet filled with a rich red wine onto the table next to him. He brought it to his lips and enjoyed its full taste and smooth texture. Then he set to work, determined to figure out just what the annoying little Miss Granger had done to poison his system against him...

***

Hermione lay completely shocked in her bed in the hospital wing as she watched Snape walk out of the room, looking like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Her body was still burning with unsated desire, but as she heard the door slam shut behind him, the feelings were quickly replaced by a rising shame and she hurried to pull the blanket over her body.

She was mortified by the way her body had responded to him, how she'd been utterly unable to control it. He was right, she was pathetic - no wonder he'd seized the opportunity to use her weakness against her now that she'd handed him the weapon so willingly. God! What mustn't he think of her! A weak, pathetic little girl, making unconscious passes at her much older professor. How he must despise her now! She'd worked so hard over the years to try and gain his respect, and now she'd made sure that she'd never have it. A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought of how he might use this against her. Snide comments she could bear, but she didn't know if she could handle him letting her secret "slip" at the Slytherin table one morning at breakfast and be made the laughing stock of Hogwarts... The shame would be hers alone to carry - he'd shown his dislike for her too many times for her to even question his sincerity. He'd made it quite clear tonight that he'd only suffered touching her to prove his point - that she was a pathetic little girl who couldn't even control her own body.

And then there was Harry... What had happened to him to make him all of a sudden kiss her like that? Did he love her beyond the love for a friend? Was it all her fault because of her stupid plot to try to get Ron to like her? Was Harry under the influence of the potion as well? God, she hoped not! Ginny would kill her - unless Ron beat her to it - if Harry decided he wanted her for a girlfriend. So many people would get hurt, including Harry, because it was Ron she wanted for a boyfriend! It had always been Ron... or had it? Suddenly, she wasn't too sure anymore. Pictures flashed before her eyes: brown eyes, black eyes, green eyes, a hand covering hers on the breakfast table, lips tasting hers, masculine scent embracing her, light shining from her heart, red hair blowing in the wind, white teeth flashing her a smile, a hand cupping her breast, a soft voice in her ear, an ache burning in her loins, tears wetting her face, lips touching her forehead, soft fingers drawing figures on her inner thighs...

"God what a mess!" she groaned, pushing her head into her pillow, trying to suffocate the swirling thoughts in her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 3 - Detention**

Hermione was released from the hospital wing the next day, after having had breakfast brought up to her bed by a curly-haired house-elf. She was grateful that she hadn't needed to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast - after the adventures of the night before, she didn't feel like sitting in the same room as either Snape or Harry, at least not until she'd figured out exactly what had happened between them.

She quietly sneaked down the stairs and made her way to her rooms. She rounded the last corner when...

"Hermione! Wait up!"

She turned around, a slight shiver running down her spine at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Hi Ron."

She felt herself go slightly hot in the face as she smiled at him. She noticed that Ron's ears were a little red.

"I was just going to the Hospital Wing to see you. I would've come sooner, but I ran into Snape as I was sneaking up there last night and he practically tossed me back through the portrait and gave me detention with Filch for a week! I've never seen the miserable git in such a vicious temper, wonder what had happened to him... Oh well, I hope it was something really bad!" he sniggered. Hermione felt herself go a bit redder and turned down her eyes. Ron took a step closer.

"I got really worried when I heard you had that accident. I'm afraid I came down a little hard on Neville, he was almost in tears after I'd stopped shouting." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there with you last night. Will you maybe accept this as a small apology?"

He pulled a small box out of his robes and handed it to her with a nervous grin. She took it with a surprised smile, putting it in the pocket of her robes.

"Thanks Ron, that's really nice." Happiness was bubbling inside her. He'd just given her a gift! He was standing in front of her being a perfect gentleman, saying he'd been worried about her! She met his eyes and got the impression that he was fighting with himself over something.

"What's wrong?" she said, looking him deeply in the eyes. He blushed slightly and lowered his eyes. Then his body seemed to stiffen slightly and a determined expression settled on his face.

"Nothing, it's just... hrm... Hermione, would you want to come on a broom ride with me tomorrow?" His breathing seemed to have stopped as he waited for her answer.

"Sure Ron, I'd love to!"

He smiled and his courage seemed to pick up, because he gave her a saucy smile and stepped close to her, grabbing hold of her hair and kissing her soundly on the lips. His tongue firmly invaded her mouth, urging her to respond to him. Tentatively, she started stroking his tongue with her own, smiling inwardly when she heard him gasp into her mouth and tighten his hold on her until it became almost painful. After what felt like a long time, he let her go and looked at her with slightly clouded eyes.

"See you later sweet," he said with a broad smile, stroked her cheek lightly and made his way down the hallway. Hermione leaned against the wall for a couple of minutes while her brain processed this new surprising information. Ron had just kissed her, and rather passionately too...

Slowly, she reached into the pocket of her robes and removed the small, velvet box Ron had given her. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her gift - a pair of earrings in pink and gold. She carefully rubbed one with her finger and felt some of the "gold" come off, showing pink plastic underneath. She held it up, watching the dangling strands of pink pearls dance before her eyes. She gave an involuntary shudder and brought them up to her ears. She bit her teeth together as she forced the sharp, metal point through her non-pierced ears and blinked away the tears quickly as she secured the fastenings and put the box back into her robes. Her ears aching badly, and with a tingling sound surrounding her, she walked the last few steps to her door and quickly stepped inside.

***

"Oh my God!" Hermione gasped as her eyes fell on her living room table. On the white marble surface stood the most amazing flower arrangement she'd ever seen in her life. A bright red flower dominated the piece, which looked like a magical hybrid of a rose and an orchid. Arranged around it were an assortment of deep red roses, greens, golden leaves and beautiful silver baby's breath that seemed to sparkle of its own accord. It took her breath away and she stood transfixed, staring at it for several minutes before she noticed the card attached to a long rose stem.

She reached out and took it, noticing in the process that the flowers not only looked incredible, they also smelt sweeter than any other she'd seen before. With fingers that trembled slightly of excitement, she lifted it to her eyes and read:

_Hermione,_

_Words cannot express how sorry I am for what happened yesterday. I never meant to do it, I swear to you. I cannot explain what happened to me, cannot explain what made my hands cause you such embarrassment. I can only assume that your beauty and grace finally broke down my defences and left me helpless against the tremors of my body, which until yesterday, I always managed to keep in check in your presence. I never thought to make this confession to you, but today, I somehow find myself compelled to be sincere._

_I've admired you for a long time, not only because of your intelligence, but because of your strength, integrity and the vulnerability I can sometimes see on your face when you think nobody is looking. I've watched you more closely than you can imagine, hating myself because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I went back to the hospital wing just before dawn and just sat by your bed for a small eternity, while feelings of shame and desperation threatened to drive me mad because of what I'd done to you._

_I know I don't deserve you, but I can't help but look at you with love and admiration. Please accept this small token of my unyielding love along with my deepest apologies._

She turned the card to see a name somewhere but found none. She read it again and then fell back on her couch. The note had deeply stirred something within her and she wondered who'd written the beautiful words. The confession suggested that the writer was under the influence of her potion and she had a sneaking suspicion that it might not have been such a good idea to brew it after all - her life was certainly becoming complicated...

She turned her head back to the beautiful flowers. The arrangement suggested incredible taste but also considerable riches. She immediately took Ron off the list, besides, he hadn't been able to get to the hospital wing, he'd said so himself... Snape had tossed him out in a fit of temper...

She sat bolt upright, turning from the flowers, which twinkled at her in a perfect harmony of red, green, silver and gold, to the card, where the formulations _"I've watched you more closely than you can imagine, hating myself because I couldn't stop thinking about you", "feelings of shame and desperation threatened to drive me mad because of what I'd done to you"_ and _"I know I don't deserve you,"_ burned her eyes. She closed them and immediately saw black eyes looking into her very soul, felt her body grow hot and her breathing heavier as she remembered the way his hands had moved along her side, cupping her breast, a stray finger drawing a teasing circle around her nipple...

She let out a trembling breath and put the card in her pocket, grabbed her books and made her way to Transfiguration.

***

Hermione felt like she was walking through a dream for the rest of the day, too confused and emotionally shocked to really note what was going on around her. McGonagall gave her a worried glance at the end of double Transfiguration and Flitwick asked her if something was the matter at the end of Charms. She just shook her head, mumbling that she was fine and went down to dinner with the others.

During dinner, she concentrated on her food and didn't speak to anyone. Harry, Ron and Ginny weren't there because of delayed Quidditch practice and Neville had sat down next to Dean further down the table. He was looking very uncomfortable, Hermione thought, putting it down to the fact that Lavender and Parvati were discussing sexual positions right next to him. She caught his eye and gave him an encouraging smile. He smiled back and during the remainder of the meal, they shared knowing smiles whenever one of the girls said something particularly tasteless. When Lavender said something about the advantage of hairless nipples, she saw Neville blush and stand up, starting to make his way towards her end of the table instead. Hermione moved to create some space for him and he accepted it with a smile and a thanks, picking up a bowl of chocolate mousse and offering it to her. They talked and laughed for a while until a sharp, cold voice interrupted:

"Miss Granger, do you know how to tell time?"

She turned her head and met black fire staring down at her. Her heart made a small jump in her chest, fear making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Neville looked at both of them with worry.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't realise it was so late."

"Well, as much as I regret tearing you away from your frivolous flirtations with Longbottom, I'd like to get your detention over with as soon as possible so that I don't have to suffer your company longer than necessary." The voice was deeply sarcastic and Hermione felt herself blush as she stood up and followed her professor out of the Great Hall.

***

They walked in silence through the deserted corridors, shoes clapping against the grey stone. Hermione couldn't help feeling like she was walking towards her doom. The tension in the air seemed to increase with every step and she could see Snape's back stiffen as they descended the stairs. At the Potions classroom he held open the door and let her walk past him before he followed and let the door slam shut. She took a couple of steps into the classroom, looking around the familiar environment. Her right hand stroked the surface of one of the desks in an almost dreamy way, when suddenly two strong hands grabbed her from behind and lifted her from the floor. She barely had time to register what was happening before she was thrown on her back on the desk she'd just been touching, feeling her back being pressed into the smooth wood as a strong, warm body pinned her down and his mouth claimed hers with almost desperate passion.

***

Clap, clap, clap... He heard his feet against the stone floor and tried to concentrate only on that sound. A word kept going through his mind "control... control... control," running in circles like a mantra. He was walking ahead of her because he didn't think he could suffer seeing her softly swaying form walk before him down the corridors. He could still feel her presence as acutely as if he'd been carrying her in his arms... He immediately suppressed the thought, cursing his body for betraying him so easily. His anger towards the girl walking behind him grew and he hastened his steps.

As soon as they reached the classroom he would confront her. Find out exactly what kind of witch's brew or spell she'd put him under to make him lose the things most important to him: his self control, dignity and the feeling of being the master of every situation and in control of his own life. The disgusting little know-it-all had managed to strip him of all that, making his mind and body betray him at every turn. The last 36 hours or so had been pure torture, her face, body, smell, forever on his mind. His hands had been tingling all day from the feel of her skin under them, her soft breast moulding itself to his touch, the wetness of her soft folds against his fingers... He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "Control... control," he reminded himself. His dreams had been a never-ending succession of erotic fantasies and he'd been hard almost constantly ever since he woke up. It was straining him sorely and his anger grew with every passing minute. He was in half a mind to just grab the girl and rape her right there in the cold stone passage, where her back would get scrubbed bloody against the rough stone, to let her take the full consequences of her actions... He clenched his teeth and reminded himself that teaching the little bitch a lesson was not worth losing his job, position and -quite possibly- his life over.

He reached the classroom door and opened it, intending to just walk inside. She was quicker however, and he found himself standing there, frozen like some stupid, lovesick boy, just following her with his eyes as she walked past him, coming so close he could feel the heat coming from her body. He clenched his teeth harder and let the door slam shut in frustration.

She was walking into the room, looking around at nothing in particular it seemed. He followed in her steps, preparing to ask his first question when his eyes inadvertently caught hold of her fingers stroking the smooth, wooden surface of one of the desks. He was standing close enough to hear her breathe and the sensual gesture became his undoing. Before he could pull himself together he felt his arms grab her and throw her on the desk, onto which he followed, coming down hard on her body and claiming her soft lips while blood pounded in his ears.

The feel of her body under his was intoxicating and he pressed himself harder against her as one hand went for her soft breast. She moaned and arched against him as he caressed the soft flesh and pinched the nipple teasingly. It enflamed him even more and he deepened the kiss, letting one hand lose itself in her curls as the other hurriedly undid the buttons in the front of her robes, laying the smooth skin bare to him. With a groan, he reached inside and explored the bra, finding it a simple model that was hooked in the front. He almost ripped the fabric as he undid the clasp and let his hand find what it'd been craving to touch for so long. She gasped and pressed her breast into his hand, kissing him back with feverish passion, wrapping her legs around his back and pressing his straining erection even closer against her.

Severus Snape couldn't believe what was happening. Not only had he completely lost control of his own body, but the girl seemed to have lost hers to the passion that enveloped them as well. Her hands were now at the front of his robes, her fingers working with fervent determination to release his upper body from the black fabric. When her hands first came into contact with his bare skin, his mind stopped working altogether. The only thing that mattered now was touching her and being touched, and his kisses became even more insistent as his hands worked to open her robes all the way down her body. She was obviously set on the same thing, for he heard the sound of ripping fabric and figured she'd lost patience with the buttons. He smiled into her soft, wet mouth, which was battling his with fervour. He couldn't recall ever having been with a woman who displayed such mind-blowing passion as this young girl.

Their movements became more determined and he heard her cry out as he took one of her breasts in his mouth and started drawing greedily on the nipple. He continued to stimulate her breasts with his hands, letting his mouth and tongue wander down her body, nipping at her skin and drawing intricate figures on her stomach and down towards her thighs. She moaned louder and entangled her hands in his black hair, urging him on further. He swiftly complied, one hand ceasing its play with her hard nipples to pull off her knickers and caress the silken skin on her inner thighs. He kissed, nibbled and licked along her thighs and stomach until she trembled with need and her grip on his hair was becoming truly painful before he let himself taste her, running his tongue over her wet folds and letting it vibrate over her most sensitive point. Her reaction was explosive, making her voice her passion through moans and gasps, pleading with him not to stop. He entered her with two fingers and felt her body arch and shudder again. She was very close, he realised, and he wanted to be inside her when that moment came.

With a swift movement, he pulled off his boxers and came to rest completely on top of her again. His mouth hungrily sought out hers as he rocked his erection against her wetness, feeling her rock back against him eagerly. The feel of her naked body pressed against him was truly incredible and when she deepened the kiss and wrapped her legs around him while one hand grabbed his sex and stroked it lightly, he choked on his breath and rubbed feverishly against her, kissing her neck and sucking on her earlobes. He felt her soft hand guide him to her entrance, his tip brushing against her moist curls. He was helpless against the need of his own body, and with a groan he captured her lips for another searing kiss and drove himself firmly into her.

He thought he heard her whimper softly against his mouth but the feeling of being fully inside her was so incredible, it shut out everything else. He started moving against her, filling her with powerful strokes, his hands caressing her everywhere, his kisses urging her to respond to the movements of his body. He moved one hand in between their bodies and started stimulating her nub again, drawing immediate response from her. Very soon, she was moving desperately beneath him, urging him to quicken the pace, hands kneading his back and mouth pressing wet kisses along his neck and chest. Their breathing became one as their bodies moved together in passionate pursuit. He intensified the movement of his hand, moving his mouth back to her breast to tease the delicate flesh. He soon felt her body stiffen and contractions started squeezing him as he drove madly into her and heard his own cry mix with hers as he exploded within her body.

They lay panting together for a while, unable to move from the intensity of the passion they'd just shared. After some time, Hermione felt his hand enter into her hair and grab her curls in a rather painful grip. She opened her eyes and looked into black eyes which shone with confusion, wonder and an increasing anger that sent shivers down her spine. He swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice didn't quite achieve its normal, cold quality, though the deadly softness was present enough, as he gave her the most piercing look she'd ever seen and snarled:

"What the hell have you done to me?"

***

Hermione felt her eyes widen in surprise at the aggressive question. The intensity in his eyes scared her.

"W-what do you mean?"

Painfully aware that he was still firmly settled inside her, she tried to avoid his gaze by turning her head to the side and closing her eyes. Straight away, a firm hand grabbed her chin and turned it back to face him.

"Look away from me again and you will sorely regret it, I promise you." His voice was making the hairs on her arms stand on end. "Now kindly tell me just what bloody spell or potion you've put me under so that this farce can come to an end!"

"Sir, I don't understand, I-"

"Don't lie to me." His voice had been reduced to a deadly whisper. "I assure you it won't work, seeing as I lie for a living. Now tell me what you've done to me."

She looked him straight in the eye, her eyes defiant.

"I've done nothing to you, sir. What on earth makes you think that I'd want to do something so repulsive as putting you, the most abhorrent teacher at Hogwarts under a love spell?"

He let out a disbelieving laugh and lowered his head until their faces were but a fraction of an inch apart. She felt her body start tingling again and drew a deep, shuddering breath, which seemed to distract him momentarily before he said:

"What on earth indeed? Well, incredible as it might seem to you - arrogant as you undoubtedly are - tumbling your precious self on a hard desk in my classroom isn't exactly my life ambition." His voice was heavy with sarcasm and took on an aggressive tone as he continued: "It so happens that my life, job and role in the war are far too precious to me for me to risk it all for a taste of your... favours." He smirked at her. "Add to that that my symptoms began just a couple of days after I personally caught you removing a book of very potent love potions from this very classroom, that I know for a fact that you've been attracted to me for quite some time and that even now, I can't seem to bring my body to part from yours..." He moved slightly inside her, feeling his length start to harden again and enjoying the sensation. He smiled knowingly as he felt her hips move to meet him and watched desire rekindle in her eyes. "It all makes for a rather convincing argument, don't you think?" He moved lazily inside her, a hand making its way down to a plump breast, pleased to feel her pulse quicken under his touch. He smiled again, feeling incredibly strong now, his earlier release having given him back some control over his body. "So, Miss Granger, which potion did you actually make and how did you manage to get it into my system?"

The question penetrated the fog that seemed to be clouding her mind, and she tried to clear her head to find an answer. Her mouth was completely dry and she swallowed and wet her lips in an attempt to get her voice back. Instantly, his eyes flashed at her.

"Can't seem to find your tongue, can you? Well, let me be of assistance."

Once again, his mouth claimed hers and set her senses reeling. She couldn't even remember what it was he'd asked her anymore as her full attention was brought to the incredible sensations he was stirring inside her. With a soft tug at her lower lip, he raised his head and eyed her expectantly.

"No? My, my, this must be the first time I've caught you speechless. Maybe I should employ this technique in class..." Apprehension and shock was written on her face, along with something else - a growing blush, revealing to him that the image had set her imagination to work as it had done his.

"Sir, you wouldn't -"

"Of course I wouldn't!" he half snapped at her. "I'm not a bloody exhibitionist. I like to keep my affairs private thank you." He moved inside her again, silencing her moans with his mouth. He could feel her losing control and decided now would be a very good time to get the truth of the matter out of her. With a grin on his face, he withdrew from her mouth and started drawing a teasing circle around her nipple with one, soft finger.

"Now, which potion did you use? The _Ardent Desire_? The _Simply Irresistible_? No...? Well I know you couldn't have used the _True Love Revealed_ as you claimed you would –“

"I-I did." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Miss Granger, don't take me for an imbecile," he said harshly as he pinched her nipple and pushed himself deep into her with long, hard strokes. "There are three perfectly obvious reasons to why you cannot have used that particular potion." He drew back so that only his tip remained inside her, wagging it slightly from side to side. "One" He pushed deeply into her, her cry of pleasure ringing like soft music in his ears. "The _True Love Revealed_ must be taken willingly and cannot be tricked upon its drinker. And I certainly would never drink it, even if I knew it would not affect me. --- Two" He accentuated the word with another deep stroke. "The potion is only to reveal feelings that are pure and noble, and I think you will agree that the ones that have been haunting me for the past two days are very far from being feelings of polite, courtly love." He chuckled lightly at his own words and saw a smile spread on her face also. He put his lips to one hard nipple and allowed himself the time to tease her until she was pushing her hips as high as she could, her body begging him to come back to rest fully inside her. "Three" Her body was shaking with desire now. "The potion only reveals feelings already existent, and I assure you that until yesterday, the only feelings I had for you were annoyance and distaste." He was being cruel to her and he knew it, yet felt an odd satisfaction at her defiant expression. He would have expected her to show some distress, and perhaps even some tears by now, but she just looked back at him with an almost smug expression. The unexpected look unnerved him a little, and he noticed to his dismay that she was trying to take control over the situation, her legs coming up to wrap themselves tightly around his back, pressing him against her.

 

"I changed it." The voice was husky as she spoke and her hands grabbed his head to pull him down for another kiss. He resisted.

"Changed it? It's partly a truth potion, you cannot change it."

"Well..." She looked very smug now. "that is correct, I couldn't change the part about sincere feelings or a willing drinker, so that's not what I did." She spread little kisses along his neck, sending little jolts of electricity through his body.

"Then how?"

"I Transfigured it so that the roles of the drinker and the brewer would be reversed. Instead of making the person who drank it reveal his true feelings -which could have concerned any one person I might add- I made it so that people who harboured feelings for the person who _did_ drink the potion would be affected by it. I took the potion myself, and quite willingly too." She flashed a mischievous smile at him. Her hands were snaking themselves around his shoulders, sending shivers down his spine. "Which means..." She rocked herself slowly against him, arching her back so that her nipples would caress his chest. "... that even though you might not have known it, you do have feelings for me."

"You forgot the part about the pure feelings." His voice was shaking slightly with desire as he fought to keep control over his body. Her touch was truly delicious and the way she rocked against him made him throb inside her. With a groan, he took hold of her soft hands and pinned them down over her head where they wouldn't be able to do any more mischief. To release some of the tension, he let himself nuzzle at her neck, drawing in her scent and bite her shoulder in frustration. She let out a moan and pressed herself closer against him.

"I-I had a dream." She was panting, and he could see a soft blush tint her cheeks. She wriggled a little and let out a laugh "I guess I should have realised who the mysterious man really was... it's really only the silk ropes that are missing..." Shock made him loosen his grip on her hands and they immediately pulled his face down to hers, allowing her to claim his lips in a fiery kiss.

For a moment, he couldn't think, then it all became clear to him and he pulled his lips free and stared at her in disbelief, worry written on his face.

"You mean to say, that the sexual impulse that spoiled the potion's purity was inspired by me?” He narrowed his eyes and stiffened as she nodded, her eyes watching him intently.

"Why would that be important?"

"Tell me, do you know what a "true bond" signifies as far as Love Potions go?" He could feel his anger rise by the second, realisation sinking in.

"Yes of course, it's when a Love Potion affects two people equally, binding them together in an unbreakable union as long as the potion is in effect. The most prominent example is the mistake that provoked the Muggle legend of Tristan and Isolde - they both drank a potion which bound their hearts together for three years," she recited, sounding like she'd swallowed a textbook. "I don't see why that should have anything to do with this potion however, seeing as I was the only one who drank it..." She searched his eyes for an answer, having momentarily ceased her assault on his body.

"Well, isn't this the day. I get to see you both speechless and at loss for an answer. Perhaps there's hope for you after all." His usual sarcasm was creeping back into his voice. "Something you evidently missed in your research, however, is that a True Bond can occur even if both parties don't drink the potion in question. In this case, it was made possible through the combination of three facts: One, you reversed the relationship between drinker and brewer, which created a potential true bond as the potion was split in two - body and effect. Two: it was a sexual fantasy about me which ruined the potion's purity, which dictated the condition for a true bond to occur. Three: you and I just fulfilled that specific condition through sexual intercourse, the conclusion being that we are now bound together for the duration of the potion's effective life span."

She looked back at him in shock, shaking her head silently in refusal.

"You don't believe me? Let me remind you that I'm one of the chief experts on Potion Transfiguration in the world. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it was my own book you used to achieve this incredibly stupid project." He smirked knowingly at the look of guilt on her face.

“Well, well, Miss Granger, it seems like you've been impaled upon your own sword in this matter... or, actually…” He smirked and moved his face closer to hers, his tongue sweeping teasingly over her lips. “…perhaps ‘being impaled upon _my_ sword’ would be a more accurate description..."

And with those words he ended all talk, claiming her lips firmly with renewed passion and letting his body have what it craved, moving fiercely inside her until they both collapsed in exhausted bliss, tremors shaking their bodies.

***

Hours later, Hermione stepped out of the emerald flames of her fireplace and sank down on her bed. Snape had allowed her access to the fireplace in his own rooms, pointing out that it would be very inconvenient if she were to run in to another teacher on her way back to her quarters.

She was elated, in total shock and rather pleasantly numb. A thousand thoughts swirled around in her head, demanding her attention. She shook her head and crept into bed - she'd think about it in the morning.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 4 - First Date**

Saturday morning came with a shy ray of sun peeking through the curtains in the Head Girl's bedroom. Hermione groaned and turned away, unwilling to wake from the blissful slumber brought to her by utter sexual exhaustion. She knew she was supposed to get up and do some homework before breakfast, ("only 122 days left until the end of year exams!" her calendar shouted happily from the floor) but somehow, today, she couldn't seem to bother. With one hand she threw a pillow on the happily shouting calendar, muffling its sound somewhat, and went back to sleep.

She dreamed that she was floating on smooth waters, stretched out lazily under the sun. The wind was caressing her softly, teasing her skin... She opened her eyes and met now familiar black ones looking down at her with warm hunger.

"Good morning," he whispered before his mouth came down on hers and she stretched out her arms to pull him down on top of her...

***

She came down to breakfast only half an hour before it ended, looking rather flushed. Her friends were still there, chatting happily. They all turned to greet her when she sat down.

"Hi Hermione!" Ginny said cheerfully. Hermione thought for a second that her tone of voice was a little strained, but let it go at the sight of eggs and bacon sitting on plates before her. God she was hungry!

"We almost thought you weren't coming down to breakfast," Neville said, a frown on his face as he looked her over. "Are you ok? You look... I don't know... different somehow... Do you have a fever?" He leaned forwards to press a hand against her forehead. She brushed it away gently.

"I'm just fine. Really. I guess I'm just a bit tired... studied half the night. Only 122 days to end of year tests you know!" She tried to smile her usual "don't-you-just-love-school"-smile. "So, what are you guys up to today?"

Harry and Ginny mumbled something about having promised Hagrid to help feed his new "project". Hermione didn't even want to know what he'd brought home this time, she only hoped it wasn't too dangerous or too illegal - and seeing as it probably was, her main hope quickly changed to nobody from the Ministry discovering its existence.

"Well I know what my plans are for today," Ron said with a smile and put his arm around her shoulders. She shuddered involuntarily at the unexpected touch. "I'm going to take a gorgeous brunette I know out for a romantic broom ride over the mountains and lakes. Know where I might find one?" He poked her jokingly in the side, making her laugh and squirm to get away.

The other three people looked at them with stunned expressions on their faces.

"You two have a d-date?" Neville asked, his voice higher than usual.

"You betcha!" Ron said with a happy smile. He was playing with one of her earrings now, obviously pleased that she was wearing them. She wished he would stop, it really hurt when he touched them.

"Oh," Neville said, sounding disappointed. "Well, that's really great!... it's only... well... I'd kind of hoped that you might be able to help me with a Transfiguration problem, Hermione... but it's not important... I can manage on my own."

"Don't be silly, Neville, of course I'll help you! Why don't we take it tonight after dinner? Will that be all right with you?

"Sure, Hermione, that'll be great." He smiled shyly up at her. "It's actually for my special project with Professor Sprout, so it's out in the greenhouses. I'll probably bring some dinner with me and work on it there for most of the day, but how about I come pick you up in the Entrance Hall at seven thirty?" He looked at her with a hopeful expression in his eyes. She could feel Ron's grip on her waist tighten a little.

"Sounds fine." She smiled at him and turned back to her food, putting some jam on a piece of toast.

"You know, Hermione..." She looked up and met green eyes across the table.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Well, if you want, you could borrow my broom for the ride. Seeing as you don't have one you know."

"Thanks, Harry, that would be so nice!" She knew how much his broom meant to him, especially now that Sirius was dead and the Firebolt was the only solid trace left of him. Harry used to ride it every day and didn't lend it to anyone anymore, not even Ron, who luckily begged a lot less now that he had his own broom.

"Just promise you'll be careful, ok?" he added softly and stroked her over one cheek with the back of his fingers. He let the hand cup her chin and tilted it up slightly to look her straight in the eyes. "You promise?"

"I promise," she reassured him and they shared a glowing smile. Something seemed to move in his eyes, and for a second, Hermione thought he was going to lean in and kiss her, but then he seemed to remember where he was and pulled back in his seat, letting his hand drop from her face.

"Er, I have to go down to Hagrid's, I'm really late." The words stumbled out of his mouth as he left the Great Hall, eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

"What the hell was that all about?!" She turned her head and saw Ron looking at her angrily, his eyes going between her and Harry's quickly disappearing back. She turned her head and faced another angry Weasley sitting across from her. She felt cornered and swallowed hard.

"What do you mean? He was just making sure I'd be careful. We are friends you know, he does have the right to care about me." She was trying to make her voice as casual as possible, looking both Weasleys in the eye. They seemed to relax somewhat.

"Well, as long as he doesn't get any stupid ideas in his head," Ron said with a chuckle "I'd hate to duel with him for your attentions." He flashed her a saucy smile and squeezed her waist lightly.

"Seriously, Ron, what do you think this is? The 18th Century? I'm not some little prize you can just win in a duel!" she said, trying her best to sound affronted. _"And even if you could, Harry would be the wrong opponent,"_ she added silently to herself, blushing slightly. She hadn't looked towards the teachers' table once this morning, but she knew he was there, could feel his presence and his eyes resting on her from time to time. She swallowed a big gulp of orange juice and decided to change the subject.

"So, what were you guys talking about just before I came down?"

Her three friends sniggered and Neville piped up his head.

"Ron was describing his detention with Filch. He made him scrub the floor in the Entrance Hall with a toothbrush but Ron got back at him. Tell it again Ron," Neville said, letting out a small laugh.

"Well..." Ron said in a dramatic voice, happy to be the centre of attention, "so there I was, right, with the stupid toothbrush in my hand. And I thought ’What if I were to make this job a little easier on myself?’ So then, when he turned his head for a moment, a pulled out my wand... carefully so he wouldn't see it, mind... and multiplied my toothbrush into ten different ones. Then I put a charm on the nine I wasn't holding and made them run across the room, cleaning of their own accord. Filch of course went crazy and ordered me to stop, but I pretended I couldn't see any toothbrushes at all... And then, Luna comes through the doors... and guess what she says... Lord, it's totally wicked...”

Hermione let Ron's story fade into humming background noise, listening only with half an ear as it grew more and more dramatic. Suddenly, she felt tired of it all, tired of listening to Ron's hero stories about himself and being part of the cheering team. Weird, she used to find his energy and humour cute. Now they seemed childish somehow... She absentmindedly looked around the room, and felt her eyes being drawn towards the teachers' table. She met his eyes and immediately felt a shock of electricity shoot through her body. His gaze was intense and she felt branded by it, utterly unable to blink or look away as they conveyed their mutual desire without words...

"...and the git ran from the room screaming with a green toothbrush hanging from his nose!!!"

Hermione was abruptly pulled back to reality as her friends broke into hysterical laughter around her. She started laughing to, though she had no idea what had been so funny. She looked quickly back at Snape who was sending her an ironic glance, shaking his head slightly. She noticed Ginny was trying to capture her attention and turned to her friend.

"So, Hermione, I forgot to ask: how was your detention with Snape last night? Did he go hard on you?”

Hermione almost dropped the glass she was holding; a vivid memory of Snape, hard inside her, pressing her down on the cool wood, flashed before her eyes. She took a deep gulp of icy water.

"No, not really. It wasn't that bad." She even managed to smile and keep her voice normal. "So, Ron, should we get going?" She did her best to sound chipper and was relieved as he stood up and offered a hand to her. She took it and they made their way towards the exit, calling "See you later" to Ginny and Neville.

His eyes never left her as she walked down the aisle.

***

The sun was shining brightly as Ron and Hermione walked out of the castle, brooms in hand.

"Wow, perfect flying weather!" Ron exclaimed as he mounted his broom and kicked off. "Come on Hermione!"

She swung a leg over her own broom and winced slightly as the wood came into contact with her body. She supposed being sore was something to be expected. After all, it'd been her first time - _times_ , she smilingly corrected herself- and her body hadn't exactly had the chance to recuperate. Memories from the latest session just before breakfast started to gather in her mind but she determinedly fought them back. She was on a date with Ron now -her dream guy- and she'd think only of him. She looked up and noticed how handsome he looked up on his broom, hair blowing in the wind...

She quickly drew her wand and performed a double Cushioning Charm before kicking away from the ground and soaring up into the clear air.

***

Sometime later they landed on a snow-covered plateau high up on the side of a mountain. The flight there had been awesome - fast and exhilarating. She really must thank Harry again for letting her have his broom, she thought. The Firebolt was incredible and made flying feel utterly effortless. She'd used to be a bit scared of flying in her first years at Hogwarts, especially after the ride on Buckbeak when she and Harry went to rescue Sirius. The ride on the Thestrals in her fifth had been a real nightmare too... She decided that she really didn't like flying horses. Brooms on the other hand... they made flying fun. Maybe she should even save up to get one herself...?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Ron put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

"Look Hermione!"

She looked and felt her breathing stop short in her chest. Before her was a panoramic view of white mountains, blue skies and glittering, partly ice-covered lakes and rivers. They were high up on the side of a mountain, the stone curving inward to create a sort of alcove, protecting them from the slight wind. Partly covering the right side of the plateau was a waterfall, frozen into a glittering crystal sculpture which formed a roof over a patch of green grass, which lay untouched by the snow.

"It's beautiful!" she gasped, unable to take her eyes off the incredible scenery.

"It really is," he breathed in her ear, his arms encircling her.

She leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder, thinking how nice it was to just stand there, looking out over the world. She felt so carefree and light, like there was no time and no space, only nature's beauty to be admired and enjoyed. She lazily watched a flock of birds make their way across the sky, sighing with contentment. This was so nice...

"I found this place last year, right after I got my broom and was flying all over the place, testing it. I've wanted to bring you here for some time now, to share this with you...”

"Thank you for bringing me here, Ron," she said, tilting her head back to get a glimpse of his eyes. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen, I think."

She saw him blush slightly, looking very pleased with himself. Then he let go of her and went back to his broom, taking the picnic basket hanging there. He walked over to the patch of grass under the glittering ice, spread a thick blanket on the ground and gestured that she should come make herself comfortable.

***

The picnic was very nice (the house elves had put in a lot of good stuff) and Hermione relaxed and enjoyed herself. She was warm and comfortable, her own blue waterproof fires glowing here and there around them. Hanging out with Ron was always fun and they talked about a lot of things, Ron telling her stories about his family and what they were up to. It seemed Mr Weasley had bought an old muggle dishwasher and was making it sing and burp bubbles when you turned it on. Hermione smiled as she imagined Mr Weasley singing along with the dishwasher and Molly stomping her foot in irritation. She made a mental note of getting him some detergent for next Christmas.

When all the food was gone and they were playfully throwing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans at each other - trying to catch them with your mouth and looking out for really weird colours - Ron suddenly grew serious and got a little closer, apparently preparing to tell her something important. She eyed him expectantly and finally he said:

"Hermione, I'm sorry that I've been such a jerk lately when it comes to you. I shouldn't have snogged Parvati, I don't even like her... I mean, she's quite hot and stuff... no, no, wait, what I mean is that I like...well, _you_ and I just wanted to make you jealous I guess... Anyway, I'm really sorry." He looked down at her with a guilty expression on his face.

"It's ok Ron, I quite understand," she replied, feeling slightly elated. He'd just said he liked her! The plan was working!

"You know, I think you're very pretty, Hermione," Ron said, moving a bit closer still. "You and this place suit each other..."

He lowered his head to kiss her and she eagerly tilted hers backwards to help the process. She was bubbling with the excitement of her plan going so well and with the thought that Ron, whom she'd fancied for so long, was practically her boyfriend. She sighed and wetted her lips, waiting for the swirling sensation to overtake her...

His lips made contact with hers and they started kissing. It felt weird. Hermione's mind immediately set to work, trying to figure out what was happening. It was... well... _nice_... very comfortable and just the right pressure and everything. Still, she didn't _feel_ quite right. Her head wasn't swirling for one thing, and though her body was tingling quite pleasantly, it wasn't even close to what she'd felt when Snape was kissing her. His kisses had been consuming, sending fire down her skin. This was more like being curled up in a light blanket before the fire. Why didn't she feel more? Maybe she was just tired?

She deepened the kiss, put her arms around Ron and pulled him down on top of her on the soft blanket, trying to get her body to wake up and make her all hot and breathless. It did a little bit, but not anywhere close to what it had earlier. She shifted her attention to Ron, to see if he was feeling the same, and got a small shock - Ron was kissing her with almost the same urgency as Snape had when he first threw her on the desk. He looked completely oblivious to anything other than their bodies and his breathing was fast and ragged as if he'd been running for a long time. She tentatively let her hands stroke him down the back and press his buttocks lightly, making him groan loudly and press himself against her. Yup, he wanted her all right, no question about it... She felt almost giddy, realising the power she held over him. The fact that she could affect him so was deeply flattering and she stroked him tenderly over the shoulders, making him gasp against her mouth. His hands grabbed her breasts and she winced slightly at the unrefined touch. She closed her eyes firmly and tried to will her body into responding to his.

It half worked - his touch felt good and she could detect a wetness where his erection pressed against her. But it wasn't the mind-blowing passion she'd come to expect. Ron's hands were going a bit all over the place, missing essential areas, his touch either a bit too light or a bit too hard for the most time to have the desired effect. He shakily started to yank at her robes and she thought she'd better put a stop to things as her body obviously didn't feel like cooperating. She grabbed his hands and broke off the kiss with a soft "No, wait", trying to look shy as she looked into his eyes.

The look in Ron's eyes made her feel terribly guilty. They were burning, burning with desire for her, and she didn't even feel very excited. She quickly lowered her own gaze so that he wouldn't be able to read her feelings. Ron seemed to stiffen and he rolled off her with a quick movement, looking a bit guilty himself.

"Hermione," he said, his voice still a bit out of control. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to go so far. Didn't mean to push you..." His hand grabbed her chin and turned her to face him. "Hermione, listen, I'm sorry I went too fast for you... I should have restrained myself. It's just... you were just so soft and so nice to touch... I'm sorry if I scared you. Are you ok?" He looked at her imploringly.

She could have laughed if it hadn't been so painful. He thought he'd frightened her, that he'd touched her in ways she wasn't ready for. God, if he only knew how wrong he was... The fact that he put down her resistance to virginal shyness was just too much. Just too much... God, she felt so bad! Why couldn't her stupid body just get with the program?!!! Here she was, with the man of her dreams, one of her best friends whom she'd fancied for almost three years, who'd taken her on an amazing date and who genuinely seemed to like her. He was smart and funny and loyal and he'd make a really good boyfriend. So why, why, _why_ didn't her body respond to him the way it should? She was near tears, her mind screaming in frustration.

Ron obviously felt really guilty, because he got up and quickly put the picnic things away in the basket and attached to his broom. He then came back to stand next to her where she huddled on the ground, grabbing her shoulders and raising her gently to her feet. She hugged him tightly and felt the pain and guilt burn in her chest as she fought furiously to keep herself from crying.

"I'm so sorry, I won't push you like that again..." Ron's soft voice came from above as he stroked her hair in comfort. "From now on, you set the pace, ok?" He tilted her face and placed a soft, tender kiss on her lips before he let her go.

"We should get back to Hogwarts if we want to get there in time for dinner," he said, handing her the Firebolt.

She nodded and smiled at him, making his expression considerably lighter. They kicked off and soared into the cold air, leaving the plateau behind them. The sun was setting in the West, painting the landscape in lovely pink, red, orange and violet hues. She let tears stream down her face, taking in the incredible beauty which now seemed to mock her, showing her what she could never have even though she desperately wanted it. Her heart was aching with guilt, frustration and sadness as she saw Ron fly before her, his hair tousled by the wind as before. How she wanted to want him!

The expression on her face hardened and she determinedly wiped every trace of tears off it with her soft glove. She might be under the influence of her own stupid potion the way Snape had explained, but she was going to prove, to him and to herself, that her mind and her determination were stronger than the fickle inclinations of her body. She loved Ron and she would have her perfect relationship with him. Her body would just have to come to terms with that... And maybe with some training and experience, Ron would come to have the same effect on her as Snape had, and she would be able to share that incredible passion with somebody who actually loved her. Yes, that's how it would be. She smiled and turned her face towards the sun, letting its last, warm rays stroke it, nature's beauty once again making her heart beat with hope and joy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 5 - Crossroads**

Hermione could hear the voices behind her fade into an indistinct murmur as she left the Great Hall after dinner. She was physically very tired, mentally exhausted and now wished that she hadn't promised Neville she'd meet him and help out with Transfiguration. Her entire body was aching horribly and she just wanted to take a double dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion and lock herself in her room.

She was a bit early, Neville wouldn't show up for another fifteen minutes or so, but she had wanted to get away from all the noise and laughter at the dinner table. She gave a deep sigh and leaned against a wall in a secluded corner of the Entrance Hall, trying to make herself as invisible as possible. She had had to get away from the strain of being in the same room as both Ron and Snape. Harry and Ginny had been away at extra quidditch practice again and would eat later, which left her the victim of two men's unwavering gazes. Every time she met Ron's eyes, she felt a bit guilty, and every time she met her potion master's she felt like she was being ravished where she sat. She thus had tried to keep her eyes down and concentrate entirely on her meal - only to find that she didn't have an appetite.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence around her, wishing that Neville would be late so she would be able to just stand there and do nothing at all...

Her moment of peace was swiftly put to an end when the wall behind her suddenly was transformed into thin air and she fell straight through it, landing quite painfully on her back. Disoriented, she turned her head and realised that she must be in some kind of hidden storage room, for it was quite small and there were shelves along two walls filled with cleaning supplies and such. It was probably used by the House Elves, she thought, trying to get to her feet.

Suddenly, a warm hand took hold of her arm and helped her get up. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was - she could feel it by how her heart instantly sped up and heat began to rise in her body. She heard him whisper a locking and a silencing charm before turning her in his arms and pulling her close for a kiss.

She felt his lips come closer and her body starting to yield as desire once again flooded her system. With her last shred of mental strength, she forced her unwilling hands to push him away and break the grip of his arms.

"Don't touch me! I don't want you anymore." Her voice was quivering as she tried to distance herself from the man, watching in apprehension as anger grew in his eyes.

"I thought I'd already told you not to lie to me." The voice was angry, but still quite in control. He purposefully stepped closer, trapping her against the wall.

"I'm not lying!" she almost sobbed, his closeness breaking down her defences much faster than her reason could rebuild them. "I'm aware that my body is still under the influence of the potion, but I intend to fight it, and I'll fight you if you come anywhere near me again!" Her hand was quite steady as she pointed her wand at him.

"You don't understand, you don't have a choice in this matter." His wand was also out now, his intense eyes never leaving hers.

"What do you mean? You always have a choice! And I for one would rather die than let you touch me again!" She grasped her wand tighter, motioning for him to back away.

"Well, unfortunately for you, I don't intend to die because of some little game your conscience is playing on you," he snarled, moving closer, his hand shooting out to snatch her wand away from her so quickly that she didn't have time to react before her hand was empty. "And I do think that, though you declare it with such passion, you would also be reluctant to actually give up your life just to appease your sense of propriety. Am I not correct?" He pinned her against the wall, cursing the look of confusion which spread across her face. The little bitch obviously didn't even understand how dangerous a situation she'd got herself into. His suspicion was confirmed by her next words.

"Do you mean..." Her voice was shaking. "...sir, you don't mean... that you would actually kill me if I didn't..." Her eyes were becoming shiny as she stared up at him in fear.

"Don't be so bloody stupid!" He gave her a little shake. "Of course I wouldn't. _You_ , on the other hand, _would_ \- killing me in the process I might add."

She looked completely bewildered now and he continued with a snarl:

"A True Bond is unbreakable, have you not understood what that means?" Her look told him she obviously hadn't. "Well, since you're showing such incredible ignorance, let me enlighten you." He lowered his voice to a whisper, pressing his body slowly against hers. "For a more common True Bond -the Bond of Love- it means that the parties cannot suffer to go without declaring their love for one another for long without their bodies breaking down and dying. For this bond, things as trivial as loving looks, light touch and pretty words fulfil the requirement. Our bond, on the other hand, is slightly different, but with the same tragic consequences should the daily requirement not be met. The Bond of Lust is very greedy and demands daily physical involvement -or, to put it to you more crudely, sex- lest the people joined by it die. You're undoubtedly already experiencing the beginning of the breakdown since we haven't been together since this morning. I'm personally rather used to physical pain and have over the years developed a high tolerance for it, and since I have problems even walking, I can only imagine what it must be like for you..."

He roughly stroked her arms and she whimpered, the pain filling her eyes with tears. She desperately looked for a sign that he'd be lying - making this up just to scare her - but the dead serious look in his eyes combined with the shooting pain in her body made a very convincing case. He eyed her intently.

"Do you understand the full consequences of your actions now?" She nodded in mute assertion.

"I guess I made my bed and now we both have little choice but to sleep in it," she said, a careful smile creeping to her lips.

"Absolutely right, and I for one intend to enjoy this impossible situation as much as I can until I can safely be rid of you again. I suggest you do the same." His lips started nuzzling her neck and she drew a sharp breath, feeling the pain subside somewhat.

"Four more days and then this'll be over forever," she murmured against his ear, kissing his neck in the same way as he did hers.

"Forever," he affirmed, claiming her mouth in a fiery kiss and pressing her hard against the wall while their hands began the struggle to rid them of their clothes as quickly as was humanly possible.

***

A little while later, Hermione stepped out of the hidden room, all pain now gone from her body and replaced with a pleasant, lazy feeling. She looked at her watch and clenched her teeth - quarter to eight - she was supposed to have met up with Neville fifteen minutes ago. She quickly looked around the Entrance Hall and saw a figure sitting slumped on the floor near the front doors. She hurried her steps towards him.

"Neville, hi! I'm so _so_ sorry I'm late," she called out as she drew nearer. He quickly stumbled to his feet, a big smile on his face.

"Hermione! I was afraid you weren't coming. I mean... I'd understand if you were to have changed your mind." He looked at her uncertainly.

"Don't be silly!" She flashed him a big smile. "I would never stand you up like that. There was just something I had to take care of, that's all." She felt herself flush slightly and decided to change the subject. "Come on, let's get going. I'm really curious to see what your project is..."

She took his arm and they walked out the front doors together.

***

Neville opened the door to one of the greenhouses with a special key and swept into a rather elegant bow, gesturing for her to walk inside.

"After you milady."

She smiled and thought the game funny, dipping into a deep curtsy with a "Thank you sir" before she entered the room.

She'd never been in this particular greenhouse before. It was Professor Sprout's favourite one, where she kept her own private collection of rare plants, and she only let a very small number of students have access to it. Hermione, though she took Advanced Herbology and got top marks, wasn't among the chosen few, but she didn't really mind. Her favourite subjects were Transfiguration and Potions after all, and she highly preferred sitting in a comfortable chair with a book than to replant aggressive shrubs in her spare time. Neville, on the other hand, had spent much of his free time down at the greenhouses ever since his first year and seemed to have become something of a surrogate son to Professor Sprout. Many were the afternoons when she'd seen him stuff his books in his backpack with a sigh of relief and excitedly make his way out the castle doors, talking about a new, fantastic plant that needed his attention...

"Hermione, over here!" Neville called from somewhere in front of her "Oh, and watch out for the firebreathing _Rosa Draconis_ to your right..."

Hermione looked to her right and carefully sidestepped the small flame aimed at her from a shiny, scaly-looking red flower. It gave out a puff of green smoke, clearly miffed that it hadn't been able to burn her. She walked further down the aisle and came to a stop at the entrance of a low arc, overgrown with vines. A red and gold sign was fastened at the top, reading "Research Lab: Neville Longbottom - Gryffindor". She gasped in surprise.

"You have your own lab here?" she asked, eyes transfixed at the sign.

Neville poked out his head from where he'd stood inside the room

"Yes, Professor Sprout offered me one at the end of last year, just before I sat my OWLs. I'm really happy I got it, I've been able to do a lot of interesting work here," he smiled proudly. "Now come here and I'll show it to you properly." He held out his hand in invitation. She took it and he started guiding her around his lab.

It wasn't exceptionally large but Hermione found her breath being stuck in her throat from the beauty of it. Flowers such as she had never seen were sitting in pots wherever she looked, displaying colours and giving off scents which made her feel like she'd entered fairyland. Neville brought her to a halt over at a table and fetched a pot with a small, blue flower, which seemed to hide its head in the green leaves that sprouted from the delicate stem.

"This is my most precious project," Neville murmured, stroking the green leaves affectionately "I've had her since she was only a small seed. She's a cross between ten different plants, all with healing properties, and I've named her "Devotionis Almae" (of life-giving devotion), but usually I just call her ‘Alice’... after my mom you know..."

She felt a sharp pang in her heart at the mention of his mother and remembered the only time she'd seen her - in St Mungo's, unable to recognise her son... She cleared her throat a little.

"So, what can I do to help you?" She looked at his hand, which was still stroking the flower, and stepped a bit closer to him.

"Well," he let go of the flower and looked back at her. "I'm having some problems with the last step in the Transfiguration process. See, I've cross-bred plants with strong healing properties, but most of them are meant to be used to cure physical injury, not... -his voiced dropped to a whisper- ...mental." He looked up at her and she understood perfectly just what kind of plant he was trying to create. "I thought Transfiguration would be the best way to change this, but I didn't want to do it myself and risk destroying something. You're the cleverest witch I know Hermione, and even McGonagall says your Transfiguration skills are outstanding. Would you help me, please?"

She looked back at him with tears in her eyes, deeply flattered and scared at the same time. It was such a huge responsibility... though the challenge of contributing to a breakthrough of that magnitude was also very tempting...

"Of course, Neville, I'd be honoured to help you." His face lit up immediately, relief written all over it.

"You really will?"

"Yes... and I even think I know exactly what spell to use..." She thought back to the one she'd used to change her love potion. It ought to be just perfect for this task too, since this was all about transferring already existing healing effects - to make it work on the mind instead of on the body. Still, she wanted to make absolutely sure it would work before she tried it.

"Neville, I need to do some research, just to double-check that the spell I'm thinking of would be the appropriate one to use. It shouldn't take me too long. Maybe we could meet here on Tuesday after Herbology?"

"Sure, that'd be just fine." He smiled at her and then reached for one of her hands and brought it slowly to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss on its back. His eyes rose to meet hers and she was stunned to see shining, unveiled love reflected in them as he murmured his thanks.

She blinked and looked again, certain that she'd been mistaken. She hadn't, his eyes were still glowing, seeming to promise without words to love, honour and cherish her forever. The look was so tender it made tears creep to her eyes and stopped her breath in her chest. She broke the connection and looked around the room, realisation finally sinking in...

"It was you who sent me those incredible flowers, wasn't it?” Her voice wasn't quite steady as she said the words.

"Yes," he answered simply, leading her over to a corner of his lab, where she recognised a big vase full of the magical red flowers she'd found in her own room. "After what my clumsy hands did to your potion in class, I wanted to give you something wonderful to try to make up for it, even if I know that all the flowers in the world couldn't make up for hurting someone so precious as you." He smiled as she reached out to touch a silken petal. "I named it after you, by the way..."

Blushing profusely, he indicated the small sign attached to the vase, which read "Orchidirosa Hermionis".

She started to speak, but he was quicker:

"Hermione, you don't have to say anything. I know that you only love me like a friend and I'm not asking you for anything. I know I never had a chance with you - I've seen the way your eyes light up when you talk to Ron and I respect your feelings. He's a good guy, and I think he really likes you." He took her hands and looked at her in earnest. "I was never one to fight over a girl, or one to try to change the ways love naturally flows." He stepped closer to her and raised his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "I didn't tell you that I love you to mess up your life or so that I would get a chance to date you. I told you because I wanted you to know the truth... that I think you are the most amazing witch and person I've ever known."

"Neville... I'm not perfect, I-"

"I know you aren't, nobody is. But that's not the point. The point is that you try, you help people, you have a good heart." He smiled at her, lifting her chin slightly. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I want you to know that you can always come to me. I won't yell at you and I won't judge you - I'll just listen and love you even more." He bent his head and kissed her softly, a very different kiss to others she'd received the last couple of days. It was gentle and loving and didn't urge any response from her. She felt truly cherished and at peace under his touch...

He let go of her lips with a little sigh, looking down into her eyes for a long time with an almost sad look, though he tried to hide it with a smile.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to the castle," he said finally and offered her his arm. "I believe somebody will be waiting for you."

 _"If only you knew,"_ she thought, taking his arm and following him out of the greenhouse.

***

The following day, Hermione went up to the library straight after breakfast, looking forward to a day of study and research. Hufflepuff was playing Ravenclaw that afternoon and she didn't really feel like going. It wasn't even her own house playing and Quidditch had never really been a passion to her as it was to most of her friends. She'd probably still go though... the others expected her to come with them...

She sat down at a table in a secluded corner of the library, piling up her first stack of books. With a happy sigh, she leaned back against the wall and opened her _An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration_. She read happily for a while, but eventually the lack of sleep she'd accumulated over the past couple of days got the better of her and her head fell to her shoulder, eyes closing as it went.

***

Severus Snape walked through the empty hallways. This was the best time at Hogwarts, when all the annoying students were out at the dratted Quidditch pitch and you could move around the castle without having to see, hear or deal with any of them. He loved the quiet beauty of the grey stone and the soft glow of the torches set along the walls. It was even better at night, but then he'd had to sacrifice that particular pleasure of late... He smirked to himself. Having Hermione Granger in his bed was turning out to be a lot more pleasant than expected. Who would have thought that there was such passion in the bushy-haired girl? No great beauty to be sure, and he still didn't actually _like_ her, but he couldn't deny the effect she had on him. _She_ had on him? He frowned at his own thinking. The _potion_ had on him, rather...

He looked up and noticed that his feet had led him to the library. Good, he could pick up the new volume on Moonstone and use it to find some good nearly-impossible-to-answer questions to spring on his classes next week...

He walked down the aisles, the book under his arm, just enjoying the smell of books around him. He wished he had a library like this just to himself, where he wouldn't have to suffer sharing the books with a bunch of moronic youngsters that didn't know how to appreciate them anyway. _"How nice it would be to be filthily rich,"_ he thought to himself.

He turned a corner and came to an abrupt halt. Curled up in an armchair next to the wall was none other than his current little Gryffindor lover, sleeping peacefully with a book in her lap. He supposed she should be tired - last night hadn't brought much sleep, and judging by the pile of books she had put on the table, she'd come here early to put in a full day's studying.

He moved closer and felt a familiar yearning awaken in his body as his gaze wandered over her. He shook his head in bemusement - wouldn't he ever feel that he'd had enough of this girl? It was the potion again of course, he'd be rid of this little itch as soon as it lost its effect. And until then... He leaned down close to her, felt her scent and knew he wanted her. He'd just have to come up with a good way to wake her up... His mind immediately formed a dozen more or less (mainly more) dirty ways of achieving this, but there was one idea which especially appealed to him. It was good because not only would it wake her up, but it would confuse the hell out of her and might open up for some delicious mental torment later on if he played the game well. Chuckling low to himself, he lifted her chin carefully and placed a soft, loving kiss on her slightly parted lips.

***

Hermione was roused from her sleep by a most wonderful sensation which spread quickly through her body. Someone was kissing her with a tenderness and skill she didn't recognise. Her mind was still heavy with sleep and she found herself just leaning into the other person's touch, enjoying the sensation. The lips left hers and wandered over her face, placing featherlike kisses everywhere before they went for her neck and ear. Strong hands were cupping her face lovingly, caressing it softly and massaging the back of her head. She sighed, this was truly heavenly...

"Hermione..." The voice which spoke her name was husky and it took a couple of seconds before her mind registered whose it was. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she got instant, visual proof that she hadn't been mistaken. Snape still looked the same, but there was something different about the way he was touching her. It was soft and tender and loving, the consuming fire she'd grown accustomed to only a shadow in the background. And he'd called her by her first name... something he'd _never_ done before, and the way he'd whispered it in her ear made her shiver slightly. The word was so soft and alluring on his lips, she felt like he was trying to put a spell on her.

He stopped kissing her neck and came to look down at her. There was something very different with the way he did that too. The look in his eyes spoke of passion and hunger, but there was something else there also, a softness, an incredible tenderness that made her heart ache. It almost looked like... no, she was mistaken, it absolutely couldn't be... She looked again but he closed his eyes almost shyly and bent his head for another lingering kiss. The combined ache in her heart and body made her moan softly and she put her arms around his back to pull him closer to her.

Their kisses made Hermione dizzy. They were simultaneously chaste and passionate, his hands caressing her gently along her face and sides but without going any further. The effect he had on her was so strong it made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. She clung to him, stroking him everywhere, trying to give back some of the incredible pleasure he was bringing forth in her. He was shaking slightly, she noticed, tightening his hold on her like a drowning man clinging to a straw. Somehow, he'd managed to switch their positions so that he was now sitting in the chair and she was lying across his lap. He cradled her like a small child, whispering sweet nonsense words in her ear about how beautiful she was and continuing the wonderful kisses along her face and neck.

It was too much, too intimate, she could almost feel herself melting in his embrace and her kisses growing more intense, promising him her very heart and soul. This was no good, it was dangerous and it had to be stopped now. Desperate to shatter the romantic shimmer which seemed to have enveloped her, she pulled herself up so that she came to straddle him, and started pressing herself erotically against him. He tried to slow her down but she wouldn't let him. Sex she could deal with, sex was ok. This sudden burst of emotion that she'd just experienced wasn't, that had to be stopped, had to be made to fade into oblivion - and what better way to do it than to let yourself be shagged senseless...? She quickly undid his robes and her own and took him inside her, whimpering softly from the pleasure that surged through her body.

Attacking his mouth with ferocious kisses, she started moving hard against him. She concentrated fully on the feel of him inside her, trying not to look at him, to make the experience as impersonal as she possibly could. Her movements were brusquely interrupted when one of his arms caught her in an iron grip, the other grabbing her face firmly, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"No, Hermione," he said silkily, piercing her with his intense look, "you're not going to just use me like this." He moved slowly inside her while holding her perfectly still, making her whimper again, this time with need. "You see, my love, I intend to fully savour this experience and I wish to do it slowly and deliberately. Now, don't move unless I tell you to and keep your eyes open, I want to see your passion..."

She obeyed and looked deeply into his eyes as he moved inside her. It was incredibly intense and the way she could see his passion burn and grow in the black depths of his eyes added to the experience. She felt branded by his look, by his touch, by everything about him, and her reason desperately wanted her to get away from him, to save the small pieces of her heart she could still call her own, before he took them away from her, piece by piece, with every new stroke inside her...

He quickened the pace and urged her to join the rhythm, taking her head in both hands and kissing her with a desperation she remembered from their first encounter. She felt herself losing control, moaning against his mouth and clinging to him like he were the only solid thing in a world falling apart. He broke the kiss and again urged her to look at him as he made the tension in her body build higher than ever before, until, finally, it shattered and she felt wave after wave overtake her, taking her to a place beyond space and time. Holding his gaze firmly, she saw his eyes widen in wonder before he closed them and kissed her hard, finding his own release.

***

Dusk came over Hermione where she sat alone in the corner of the library. She hadn't moved much since Snape left her, too stunned and too confused about what had happened to do much else but stare in to space.

After it was over, when their breathing had started to go back to normal, he'd lifted her off his lap, readjusted his robes and left without a word. Her eyes had followed him as he walked down the aisle towards the exit, but he never looked back. She'd curled up on the chair, feeling empty and drained. How could he make love to her like he just had and then coldly leave without as much as looking at her? She was unsure of how to interpret his behaviour. This wasn't his usual shag-Hermione-senseless-routine, it wasn't just physical anymore. He'd touched her like a devoted lover, kissed her like a man kisses a cherished wife. Had it all been an act? Was this some new little game he'd come up with to torture her?

 _"I lie for a living"_ His words from their first night together came back to her and she bit her lip, trying not to cry as confusion and pain filled her heart.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 6 - Déjà Vu**

The door to the Potions lab opened and the class walked inside. Hermione went to her desk together with Neville, who was smiling at her whenever she looked at him. She looked around the room, catching first Harry's eye, who smiled at her softly, and then taking in the other students present. Where was he? She looked again towards the teacher's desk and in direction of the hidden door to his chambers. The Potions master was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, the door to the dungeon closed with a bang and she jumped in her seat, not daring to look around but incapable of avoiding doing so. She felt heat rise in her body with every step he took along the aisle, walking towards his desk. It was unbearable to just sit there and not be allowed to touch him. Her body was aching, hurting, having been denied his for so long... She thought back on their meeting in the library the day before and felt familiar tears rise to her eyes. He hadn't come to her room last night, had left her alone for the first night since they came to be under the effects of the potion. She'd waited up for him for hours, finally swallowing her pride and going down to the dungeons to look for him. He hadn't answered when she'd knocked on his door, pleading with him to open and let her in. She knew he'd been there, had felt his presence through the heavy oak, but he'd ignored her, refused her need.

She slowly raised her eyes and looked in the direction of the desk. Snape wasn't looking at her. She followed his movements about the classroom and saw him bend low over Pansy Parkinson's desk, leaning far closer to her than was proper as he asked her questions about her potion. Hermione's heart skipped a beat and her breath was caught in her throat as she saw Snape's hand cover Pansy's, showing her how to effectively dice dried beetles. Jealousy burned inside her and she quickly lowered her head to her desk, trying to control her shaking hands that were threatening to make a mess out of her powdered dragon claw. She worked furiously, ignoring Neville's worried glances and did her best to shut out all sound around her. Her concentration wrapped her in a kind of haze, which wasn't broken until a silky voice penetrated her consciousness:

"... which would be what substance, Miss Granger?"

She jerked her head up, her eyes meeting his for the first time since she'd seen them widen and burn with ecstasy the day before. She searched them for any emotion, but the look he gave her was without expression.

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I didn't hear the question." She fought hard to keep her voice even and her emotions under check as she again met his gaze.

"My, my... not listening to your professor... well, you do seem incredibly fascinated by your desk, Miss Granger... perhaps you would enjoy a detention tonight... polishing it?” He looked intently at her, pronouncing every word with care, the implied meaning of the sentence all too clear to her as flashes of them together on the hard, smooth wood surged through her mind.

"That's not exactly fair, sir, I-"

"Talking back now, are we? I am your teacher Miss Granger, and it seems you need to be reminded of your place... Maybe scrubbing the floor with a wet cloth... labouring on your hands and knees... would teach you some humility...?"

He walked closer to her desk and she felt her head start spinning from the combined effect of his suggestive words and his closer presence. She couldn't seem to find her tongue, swallowing hard and hoping he wouldn't assist her the way he'd done last time she'd faced that particular predicament. She was furious with him for behaving like this towards her in class, where everybody's eyes were on them, bound to notice the sparks flying between them. Their eyes locked, and what felt like a small eternity passed before his voice broke the silence.

"Detention. Eight o' clock. Tonight." The silky tones made her shudder, but she managed to throw him a mutinous glance before he turned and stalked away to criticise Harry's potion.

"Can you believe him?!" she whispered furiously to Neville, throwing some powdered mandrake root into her cauldron.

"That was very unfair," Neville whispered back with a nod. "He shouldn't give you detention just because you didn't hear his question." He put his arm around her and gave her a small encouraging squeeze "I'm sorry for you... how about I put up some flowers in your room to make you feel better?"

Feeling Snape's eyes on her, she gently stroked Neville over the hair and gave him a big smile, nodding happily at his suggestion.

"Really? That would be so sweet! Your flowers are more beautiful than any I've ever seen in my life... I'd be honoured by such a gift."

He blushed slightly and then took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed the back of it softly.  
"Your will is my command, milady," he whispered with a playful smile on his lips.

CLANK!

They both jumped around and saw Harry's cauldron roll away on the floor, red potion spreading over the desk and forming pools on the stone beneath it. It looked horribly like blood, dark red and shiny, and Hermione let out a scream when she saw Harry, slumped on the desk in the middle of it all, face pale and motionless...

She tried to run to him, but strong hands held her back and she felt herself be pulled against a hard chest, arms holding her tight as she fought to get free, tears starting to run from her face.

" _Scourgify,_ " Snape's voice came from somewhere close by. " _Enervate_."

Neville loosened his grip slightly and let out a small yelp of joy. She quickly turned around and saw to her relief that Harry had opened his eyes and was looking around the room, disoriented. Snape was towering over him, his face furious.

"20 points from Gryffindor for extreme carelessness in my class, Mr Potter!" he shouted. "Though tragic and pathetic it must be for you to lose out to Longbottom, I refuse to let your tangled love life and lack of self-control endanger my class in this manner." His eyes started to shine with sadistic pleasure as he noticed bright, red rashes spreading over the boy's hands and face. He turned his head.

"Mr Longbottom, kindly unhand Miss Granger and escort Mr Potter here up to the Hospital Wing. Though not terribly surprised at your complete lack of judgement, I remind you too that this is a Potions class, not a dating service." As the boy passed him, he took hold of his arm and added, his voice cold and menacing, "Detention with Filch tonight... and I'll make sure he thinks of something exceedingly unpleasant... Now, get out of my sight, idiot boy!"

He turned to the class and continued:  
“Homework: a two foot essay on the uses of dragon claw in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday. Classed dismissed. Miss Granger, in my office, please!" He turned around and swept out of the classroom, robes bellowing behind him.

Neville shot her a worried glance before hoisting Harry to his feet and leading him out the door, heading for the stairs. She stood immobile for a minute, not knowing where to go, before taking a deep breath and walking towards the door at the other end of the classroom.

***

Severus Snape was pacing. "Furious" would have been far too light a word to describe his state of mind just then, and the rhythmic movements were an attempt at gathering at least some self-control before that cursed student of his entered his office. He had to get a grip on himself, he would not allow her the satisfaction of seeing him reduced to this state... He put a hand to his temple and massaged it lightly, trying to block out the memories of the know-it-all Gryffindor who had been constantly in his thoughts for the past four days. Since he'd taken her in the library the day before, the memories had intensified, making something as basic as being conscious into pure torture.

He'd enjoyed the little game in the library. She'd been utterly confused and he'd felt her heart begin to respond to his touch, had seen the need in her eyes turn from just physical to something more and more emotional. She was falling for him alright, he thought with a small smirk, congratulating himself on his performance. Stupid, stupid girl... she ought to realise that a man could not rise to the rank of spy in the Dark Lord's circle without being an excellent actor... He'd played the part of the besotted lover to perfection, and he knew it. Still there was something nagging him deep inside, a small voice telling him that he might have played the part a little too well for his own comfort...

He immediately banished the thought. Sure, he'd felt something when looking into those big hazel eyes, he'd felt a small spark inside him that had made his breath stop for a second at the sight of the incredible emotion he saw in them, but so what? He'd been a bit overwhelmed by the passion, that was all. He'd managed to play the part so well he'd even fooled himself there for a second. It was still alright, he was still in control - hadn't he proved that last night when he didn't go to her?

He massaged his temples harder, trying to ease the headache that was building behind them. He was feeling the full effects of the potion now, not having had her for almost twenty hours. When she'd come knocking on his door the night before, he'd almost had to tie himself down in order not to just rip open the door and pull her to him. He'd pressed himself against the smooth wood of his door, feeling her body on the other side of it, hearing the desperation in her voice as she begged him to let her come in...

It had been one of the hardest nights in his life - in the double sense of the word - and after hours of tossing and turning in bed, getting up now and again to stare into the fire, knowing how easy it would be to just reach for the shimmering powder in the jar and go to her, he'd made himself a batch of Dreamless Sleep Potion and finally got some rest. As soon as he woke up this morning, however, the aches and cravings in his body were back. He was seriously starting to reconsider his promise to himself not to touch Granger until her detention that night but suppressed the tempting thought of taking her as soon as she walked through the door with a deep intake of breath. No. She would not do this to him. He would control himself, would let her suffer for a few hours more. The way she'd been fooling around with Longbottom - Longbottom of all people! - in _his_ class made him almost seethe with fury. The little bitch would pay for trying to play him like that. He'd show her who was in charge of this little game...

"Mind telling me what you think you're doing?"

He turned around abruptly and felt his heart pound heavier in his chest as their eyes locked across the room. Her voice had sounded angry, and the look she gave him now was nothing short of furious. He swallowed hard. She looked incredible.

"Well, Miss Granger, I was _trying_ to teach a class, but _somebody_ interrupted that by doing a rather pathetic interpretation of ‘the young beauty, unfairly treated’, calling Longbottom and Potter to her aid. You really should give up acting, you know, that little performance was bad enough to make me sick."

"Well, I'm sure it wasn't even half as convincing as your own take on the ‘perverse-teacher-hitting-on-student’-routine." Her sarcasm matched his as she stared at him defiantly.

"Jealous are we?" he chuckled lightly. "Well, I can't deny that I find Miss Parkinson's charms a bit more alluring than your own. A bit more _developed_ if you know what I mean... Maybe I should invite her to the detention tonight as well. It would be nice for you to have something to watch as you do your work, don't you think?" He smirked at her outraged expression.

"You are despicable!" she shouted "God, I wish I could just hex you into a bloody pulp!" She seemed to calm down and took a couple of steps towards him, her voice turning silken as she added, "Unfortunately, you have something I need..."

"Sorry, Miss Granger, I'm not interested," he said, managing to keep his voice calm and cool. "I suggest you remove yourself from my sight."

She kept moving towards him, only about ten feet away now, her hands beginning to unfasten the buttons at the top of her robes... He put on his most deadly face, his voice turning to pure ice.

"Go away. I don't want you."

She stopped and just stood looking at him for what felt like an eternity. Then she shrugged and smiled, advancing on him while unfastening more buttons.

"Too bad for you then." He could see her bare shoulders now, creamy skin exposed, so soft, so close... "I've never taken an unwilling man before... should be quite an experience..." She was only a few feet away now, he should push her away, do something... "That is... if you now _are_ unwilling..." her robes fell to the floor, revealing smooth skin covered only by a pair of white knickers and a simple bra. He didn't let out a sound, but found that he couldn't move away either as he took in her form.

She gracefully removed her underwear and then came to a stop in front of him, holding only her wand, close enough so that he could feel the heat coming from her but without their bodies actually touching.

"So, Professor…" Her voice was husky and low, incredibly arousing. "…are you going to cooperate or will I have to force you to help me with my little problem?" She stroked the outline of his arms and torso with her wand, making it travel lower...

With a groan, he let go of all pretence and pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply and letting his body have what it craved. Bloody hell if he was going to suffer any longer or let her manipulate him in this way. He'd show her who was in charge of this little "situation" they were having.

His robes joined hers on the floor within seconds and he turned her around, pinning her against the cold stone wall. She didn't seem to feel the cold at all, her movements desperate now to get him where she wanted him to be, pressing against him, kissing his neck...

"How flexible are you?" His voice low in her ear made her dizzy with desire.

“What?" she looked up at him in confusion. His hand pressed on her thigh and understanding dawned on her. "Oh, well, very flexible actually... I used to do gymnastics as a little girl and I kind of... oh…" Her explanation was interrupted as he lifted her right leg straight up, putting the foot to rest against his shoulder and entered her firmly, pushing her against the wall for balance. His mouth came down on hers as he started to move, turning her slightly to the side to find the perfect angle...

***

Sometime later, she was sitting in Transfiguration, trying her best to hide the smile on her face. Giving correct definitions of complex spells became a lot harder when your thoughts were constantly interrupted by flashes of having incredible sex. Every now and then, she could feel him move inside her, could feel her muscles stretch and contract, remembering the intense pleasure that had flooded her veins as he pressed her tighter against him, increasing the speed...

"Miss Granger, pay attention!"

She snapped up from her reverie and looked around her, embarrassed. Professor McGonagall was looking at her with dismay written all over her face. Hermione quickly sat up straight, putting on her normal "alert student"-face and smiled an apologising smile at her professor. The class went on as normal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 7 - Pillow Talk**

Detention was drawing to a close down in the dungeons where the Potions master and his best student were hard at work. This time, they'd actually made it to his personal quarters before succumbing to temptation.

Hermione slowly lifted her head and looked into Snape's face. His eyes were closed and there was something which greatly resembled a smile playing on his lips. They'd been lying together in silence for several minutes, unable to move after yet another mind-blowing experience. His arms were still around her back, stroking her lazily. She supposed she should get off him, but lying on top of him like that, still connected, still in his arms, was just too damn nice. She sighed and moved her head to nuzzle at his neck, inhaling deeply and enjoying the smell of him. She could just lie here forever...

"Hermione?"

"Mmm..." she murmured, leaving his neck to look into his eyes. "That was so amazing," she whispered, bending her head to kiss him softly.

He didn't answer, but moved his hands up her back and into her hair as he kissed her back - long, lingering kisses that took her breath away and made her sigh with contentment. After a long time, she pulled away, popping herself up on one elbow and looking back at him with a curious look in her eyes.

"How did you get so good at this anyway?

"Being the most abhorrent teacher at Hogwarts, whom no woman in her right mind would come close to, you mean?" he said, throwing her own words back at her. "Though you might find it difficult to believe," his eyes twinkled teasingly at her, "many women are attracted to darkness and danger, something the Dark Lord finds most convenient."

Her eyes widened in surprise and he continued in a lazy voice,

"A woman seduced or bound by lust or love is a powerful weapon. Women are weak, easily controlled by their bodies. The Dark Lord knows this and uses it to suit his purpose. He prefers to use stealth and manipulation rather than blunt force where he can, and a love potion or a successful seduction can be just as effective as an Imperius Curse, or better still since the woman, in general, never attempts to fight it off."

"So you... what...? have Dark Arts sex ed at your Death Eater meetings?" She looked incredulous.

"I wouldn't exactly call it that, but we do share experiences and women are easily to be had in such a _persuasive_ company..."

He looked at her intently, letting the implications of his words sink in. The smile was gone from her face, and she started to pull away from him. He held her more firmly, stopping all escape. With a quick movement, he rolled so that he came to lie on top of her, pinning her to the mattress and moving his head down to play with a soft breast. She struggled under him but he ignored it, holding her hands down with one hand as the other worked all the sensitive spots on her body. Within minutes, her struggle to push him away turned into a struggle to pull him closer against her, and her legs and arms came around his back as she moved feverishly to meet his thrusts deep inside her...

***

She was taking the steps two at the time, moving quickly up the stairs towards the hospital wing. It was close to midnight and she knew she'd be in deep trouble if one of the teachers should catch her out in the corridors this late at night. The need to see Harry was too strong however, so she'd grabbed his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and decided to risk it.

She opened the door to the ward soundlessly, and crept across the floor, careful not to make any sound which might alert Madam Pomfrey. Harry would be at the far end of the ward, Ron had told her so at dinner, and she hastened her steps, anxious to get to him...

Suddenly, she saw something which made her come to an abrupt halt. There was Harry's bed alright, but he wasn't alone in it. Another person - a girl, one she knew only too well - was curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder and her arm and leg wrapped around him. A wave of jealousy surged through her and she stood frozen to the spot, watching how the other's hand started playing with the hair at Harry's nape as she spoke, the words soft and loving.

"I just don't know what to do, Harry. Ron would be furious if he knew that I was sneaking up here to see you in the middle of the night. I know he's just doing it because he loves me, but sometimes I feel like he's watching over me all the time, wanting to protect me and making my choices for me to make sure they're the right ones. This morning, at the breakfast table, he peeled an orange and handed it to me saying that I looked tired and needed some vitamin C. It's really sweet, I know, but I just want to decide what I'm going to have for breakfast on my own. And I don't even like oranges! You'd think he'd know that after having had breakfast with me every day for the past zillion years, but no.... I don't know, it's like he sees me more like I'm supposed to be than what I actually am, that he actually doesn't know me that well... does that make any sense?"

The girl under the Invisibility Cloak watched in horror as Harry pulled her friend closer and stroked her cheek tenderly.

"I understand what you mean, but he really does love you. He just wants you to be healthy and happy. Just as I do, you know. I know it's not the same kind of love or the same kind of relationship with me as with him, but when I see you looking tired or sad, it makes my heart ache. I just want to wrap you in my arms and hold you till it gets better, kind of what I'm doing right now, I guess." He smiled softly. "When you love somebody as deeply as I love you, you just can't keep yourself from trying to help... And I know that Ron loves you too, even if he's a bit trying at times. Don't worry about him, angel, everything will be alright." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Thanks, Harry," she whispered, hugging him yet a bit tighter. "It's so nice to know that you're here for me, especially now. My life just seems so complicated right now. I'm keeping this huge secret from Ron - well, from everybody I guess - and I feel really guilty. I feel like I'm betraying him every day that I don't tell him the truth, but I still can't bring myself to do it because I know he'd be really angry. He's not that good at forgiving, you know, and I'm really scared he'll turn away from me if I tell him." She started to cry silently.

"Shh, shh, don't worry, angel. You had no choice, not really. Some things are just too strong for you to resist, and you just can't deny your feelings like that. Some magic is just too powerful, you know, and I couldn't resist it any more than you could." He placed another kiss on her brow, stroking her hair gently. "I know it's one hell of a situation we're all in, but it'll work out somehow, I promise you." He lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. "Hey, don't cry... I love you and I will help you sort this mess out, ok?"

She couldn't watch any longer. The scene was too intimate, too sickly sweet, too crushing. Jealousy burned in her chest and she quickly turned around and started walking towards the exit. Tears were rising in her eyes and she hurried her steps, pulling the Invisibility Cloak closer against her body. Harry's smell was on it, surrounding her, taunting her, images of him and the all too familiar girl curled up on the bed together flashing in front of her eyes, their tender words ringing in her ears. He'd said similar things to her that night in the dark. Had stroked her hair just like that and held her close against him. He'd kissed her and she'd thought it'd meant something, thought he'd felt their hearts connect the way she had.

With a sob, Ginny Weasley broke into a run, flying down the stairs with tears streaming down her face...

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 8 - Bargains and Battles**

Hermione was sitting on her bed, leaning back against the cushions and thinking about the day. It had been a very weird one, that was for sure, what with the potion exploding in class, learning something new about Snape and the Death Eaters - definitely things she did not want to know - and seeing Harry up in the hospital wing. The meeting with him had been very emotional - partly due to the potion, she suspected. She'd basically figured out how it affected everyone around her now, and it was really a relief to finally know where everyone stood.

There were four people affected: Harry, Ron, Neville and - of course - Severus Snape. According to her observations, at least three of them loved her, but in very different ways. Harry loved her as a sister and a sort of extension of himself - she supposed "soul mate" would fit pretty nicely, even though she thought the word way too corny to be able to use it comfortably. He didn't actually want to date her and he wasn't sexually attracted to her. There was something unearthly to their connection, and the kisses they'd shared had had an almost mystic feel to them. It made her wonder if there was some sort of magical bond between them that she was not aware of, something relating to the prophecy about him and Voldemort perhaps...? No... well, she couldn't put her finger on what it was, but when they were together, she felt like they were two halves of the same self, and when he'd passed out in the pool of red in the Potions Lab, she'd felt as if something was dying inside of her... It was weird to say the least. She decided that she should look through the Ministry records regarding the prophecies in the Department of Mysteries, not that there was a lot of information available to the public, but at least she would be able to go through the lists of names written on each orb. Maybe there'd be something... She sighed softly and moved on to the next candidate.

Ron Weasley. Her first love, the guy she'd fancied ever since starting Hogwarts practically. She hadn't realised what her feelings meant until third year, but she supposed they'd started the day he sacrificed himself so that they could win the chess game and beat Quirrell to the Stone. It had been such a noble act and he'd been so courageous... She smiled inwardly as she remembered how she'd come back through the fire, after helping Harry with Snape's challenge, and found him, still on the floor but smiling faintly at her, telling her he was happy to see her again and not to worry about him. Who then would have guessed that the boy would be so completely impossible to deal with? She remembered all the months she'd spent trying to get his attention, to make him realise that she was not just another guy in the group (and a fat success that had been - it had taken him till the Yule Ball to even notice that she was a girl, she thought bitterly). Now it seemed like she'd finally reached her goal. Ron fancied her. Ron loved her - not only as a friend but as a _girlfriend_. He asked her out, he wanted to snog her, he did romantic little things for her, he endlessly tried to turn her attention to him. It was all she'd ever wanted... or so she'd thought...

Neville was the perfect gentleman. He'd said he loved her and she believed him, but she also suspected that his love was of the idealistic nature. He loved her because she was untouchable, loved her because he thought he'd never have a chance with her. She'd tutored Neville for several years now and she was aware of the fact that he seemed to regard her as a mixture of an encyclopaedia and a goddess. He loved her knowledge and her power, but she also knew that he loved her for herself. Incredible as it would sound, she figured that Neville was probably the guy who knew her best among her friends. It was hard to talk to Harry and Ron, there was always something going on with them and there was never time to just sit down and have deep conversations. Always someone to save or something to do, and in the rare case when that didn't happen, there was always some kind of problem poking up its ugly head - like the two of them not talking, either to her, to each other or both. Neville was simpler, he didn't live in the spotlight, he had time to listen. She hadn't opened up too much to him either, but far more so than to the other two. He was really incredibly sweet, but she already knew he could never be her boyfriend. Partly because she didn't see him that way, but mainly because he didn't think that he'd ever have a chance with her, and her guess was that if something was ever to happen between them, the romantic shimmer he'd wrapped himself in would fade and he'd realise that she wasn't the untouchable goddess he'd created in his fantasies. She still loved him - as a friend - and he really made her feel good whenever she was down. She smiled and turned her head, letting her gaze sweep over the fresh bouquet of glittering, golden daffodils that stood in a vase on her bedside table.

A quiet swooshing sound went through the room and the flames in her fire turned emerald. Seconds later, the fourth man in the equation stepped out of her fire and leaned back casually against the wall, watching her, enjoying the sight of her stretched out against the many pillows, dressed only in a scarlet bathrobe. She met his eyes and felt the familiar quickening of her heart in her chest. Where her professor was concerned, there was nothing of the fluffy pink romantic feelings that Neville and Ron displayed. Not unless he pretended there to be, that was. She'd had a lot of time to think through what he'd said about binding a woman's will through her body and had come to the conclusion that he only liked to play her. He liked to destabilise her, liked to see her confused and hurting... Still, there were little moments when he seemed to let down his guard and relax a little. Seconds at a time, but still significant in her mind. A spontaneous sigh, an unguarded touch, a sleepy caress... things that made her stupid heart drum a little harder, filling with hope.

There was no denying it, she knew she was in love with Severus Snape. She'd known it since he'd cornered her in the secret closet off the Entrance Hall, but tried to deny it for as long as she could. After the meeting in the library, denial had been impossible. She'd still tried to control her emotions though, doing everything in her power so that he wouldn't know what she felt. She feared from the superior looks he gave her at times that she hadn't been successful.

Suddenly, she was tired of the games, tired of hiding her feelings. God, the whole thing was crazy and just plain wrong. It didn't make any sense for them to be together, there was no logic in her feelings for her snarky professor. She should hate him. She did hate him. He was arrogant, unpleasant, deeply sarcastic, critical, calculating and just plain rude. Still, she didn't seem to be able to get enough of him. It was the potion again of course. The potion made her feel this way, creating feelings that would otherwise have been impossible. Only two more days to go now, until it would lose its effect on Thursday morning, exactly one week after she'd taken it. She wondered what would happen then, what she would think, what she would feel.

She felt herself dreading the moment.

"Do you love me?"

She heard the words come out of her mouth before she registered that it was she speaking them. His face or pose didn't change in the slightest.

"No, I don't."

Voice calm and cool, conversational, like if she'd asked him whether he liked broccoli.

"But you love what you do to me? The power, the excitement, knowing that you can make me - the annoying Gryffindor know-it-all - beg for your touch. It makes you feel like you've won, doesn't it?"

He started moving towards the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, his voice smooth and silky as he spoke, "My my, Miss Granger, I do believe that you're actually learning from this experience..." He was by the bed now, sitting down, close enough to touch her. "... I must confess that I do enjoy this little game far more than I thought I would... It's proving most... satisfying." He gave her a little smirk as he started massaging her bare feet, sending electrical shocks through her body.

She sat up abruptly and slid down to the foot of the bed to sit next to him, pulling her feet away from his hands and hiding them under her body.

"Then let's strike a bargain." She looked at him intently and saw a curious spark in the deep, black eyes. "The potion will lose its effect in about 60 hours. It's proven more powerful than I ever thought it would be. I'd like to use the opportunity to fully explore its limits, go all out, see exactly what it is capable of. Call it an extra-curricular research project."

"What are the terms?" She could tell he was interested. She knew he would be, he was Head of Slytherin House after all. She leaned a bit closer, her lips brushing against his, softly, teasingly before she drew back a little to where she'd be able to see every movement in his face.

"It's quite simple, really. The game ends. Now. We let go of that precious self-control we both value so highly for the coming 60 hours and let the potion take complete hold of us. No limitations, no strategies, no ulterior motives - only you and me, exploring the magic of passion further than anybody ever before us."

"It's a risky project you're proposing."

"Which is precisely why it's so attractive. Think of the possibilities, think of what we could _learn_. With this knowledge, you could perfect the art of seduction/mind control. It would make you an even better spy. And I, well... I must say that the challenge you present is too interesting for me to refuse."

"You hope to snare my heart. To make me fall in love with you." Cold statement, no emotion.

"Yes." Simple, honest answer. She slid closer, one hand starting to draw light circles on his right thigh.

He sat silent for several minutes, considering her proposal. It was a great risk to take, but the danger had a definite appeal, as had the possible rewards. She was right, the challenge was too interesting to pass up, for both of them.

"I accept." He smiled at her obviously pleased expression.

"I knew you would." Both hands on his body now. He started lowering the mental walls he'd spent so many years carefully building up in his mind, letting sensation after sensation flood his consciousness. He leaned back on the bed, letting her initiate the first step of complete exploration. He felt his robes fall away and wet lips travel down his chest when suddenly-

"Hermione! Where are you?! I can't believe you'd do this to me!”

The door to her outer chambers slammed shut and the angry voice echoed through the silence. In a split second, Hermione was off the bed and out the bedroom door, pulling the bathrobe tight around her. He quickly refastened his robes and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself before moving soundlessly to stand behind the door. Both voices in the other room were clearly audible, and he stood perfectly still, taking in every word that flew between Hermione and the other girl, who'd just interrupted what had promised to be a very strong experience. He didn't know whether he felt disappointed or relieved.

 _"Always know your enemy, especially yourself,"_ he reminded himself silently as he pressed his ear closer to the door, in order not to miss anything of the angry Gryffindor catfight on the other side of the wood.

***

Hermione stood watchfully in front of her bedroom door, eyeing her friend apprehensively. Ginny was clearly very angry, and she wondered why. Her main concern at the moment though, was to keep Ginny occupied and away from her bedroom long enough for Snape to leave. Discovery was something she absolutely had to avoid.

"Ginny, what's the matter?" She pulled the bathrobe tighter around her, feeling very vulnerable in her state of undress.

"Oh, don't give me that crap! I saw you, Hermione, I saw you in bed together!"

Hermione felt her insides freeze. Surely, that was not possible. Apart from the meeting in the library, all their time together had been spent behind closed, locked and warded doors. Ginny couldn't possibly... could she? She kept silent and tried to look puzzled as Ginny went on:

"How could you? This is just so low - a whole new dimension of backstabbing, if you ask me. I thought I could trust you, Hermione, I thought you were my friend! And then you..." Ginny's voice began to shake, "...then you go and... oh God! I feel like I'm going to be sick!" She slumped down on the couch, putting her head in her hands.

Hermione remained where she was, desperately trying to think of something to say. She was still in shock that Ginny knew about her and Snape. What if she told Ron, or Harry, or McGonagall?! She'd be expelled within a day, she realised with a sinking feeling.

"I just don't understand why." Ginny's voice was softer now, the anger seemed to have gone out of her somehow. "I mean, you talk about Ron for all these months - years even - and then, when he finally comes around, your first act as his girlfriend is to cheat on him! Why?"

Hermione felt tears rising to her eyes and guilt building inside her.

"I don't know, Ginny... I just can't help having these feelings... I..." She swallowed hard, biting back more tears.

“... and with his best friend on top of that! And what about _my_ feelings, Hermione? Did you ever stop to think about that? You know how much I love him, and still you... You know, things were working out for me, he was _finally_ coming around. You know how long I've wanted him! Why couldn't you just have been happy for me and left him alone?"

Hermione felt relief surge through her. It wasn't Snape Ginny had seen her with, it was Harry. Last night in the hospital wing probably. Good, this she could deal with.

She walked over to the couch and sat down next to her friend.

"Ginny, I'm so, so sorry," she started, adding a slight quiver to her voice, "but please, please let me explain before you hex me into nothingness, it's not as bad as you probably think it is -"

Ginny gave a loud snort

"Not as bad as I think? Well, I bloody well hope not, seeing as I saw you cuddled up in bed together, talking about betraying my brother and professing your undying love to one another! Seriously, Hermione, I don't think that there's anything you could say which would make me any more understanding, but please go ahead."

"Ok then... well I guess I should tell you the whole story..." She had to be careful now, she knew that... but then this had worked on Harry, so logically, Ginny should lap it up too, providing that she stayed focused on the Harry-issue and didn't ask too many questions... God! She wished she could just tell her friends what the problem really was, but that was impossible. She'd long since learnt that the only way to be sure that a secret would never come out was never to tell it to anybody. She gave a sigh and started telling "the truth".

"Last week, I was really desperate. Ron was acting like a total jerk and I was nowhere closer getting him to ask me out than I was last year. I was angry and upset, and I decided to do something I normally would never, ever do -"

"What? Hitting on his best friend to make him jealous? Sorry, Hermione, but I think you already tried that." Ginny's voice was cold, the hurt apparent behind the harsh words.

"I know, that's not what I did. I - I made a love potion." She paused a little, allowing her words to sink in. Ginny's eyes widened.

"You put my brother under a love potion?! So that's why he's suddenly acting the part of the attentive suitor around you! I _was_ wondering... Hermione, that's despicable! It's like putting him under the Imperius Curse, just not as illegal! And how can you enjoy yourself, knowing that his feelings aren't real-"

"But they are! That's just the thing, I didn't want... I would never want to force someone to love me. I'd hate every second of it. That's why I chose this one potion, the _True Heart Revealed_ , it's like a mix between a love potion and a truth potion and it only reveals feelings that are real and already exist, it-" Her heart suddenly plummeted. She'd forgotten about that for a second. The potion didn't create any feelings... then how was it possible she felt this way about Snape? Surely she couldn't be... she couldn't have... she couldn't actually _love_ him, could she? She tried to banish the thought, but logic and common sense wouldn't let her. Images and feelings started swirling around inside her until she was left with only stunning realisation.

"I truly love him." She hadn't even noticed she'd opened her mouth, and now slapped her hand over it, trying to take back what she'd blurted. Ginny raised her head and looked at her intently.

"I know you do, Hermione, you've been telling me that for years now." Ginny's voice was a little bit softer now, she noticed, and relief flooded her - Ginny obviously thought she'd been speaking about Ron. She decided to continue with the story.

"Yes, well anyway, the potion cannot be tricked or forced upon its drinker, and I knew that Ron would never take it willingly, so I transfigured it so that I could drink it instead and so that it would work in reverse - it would affect people who had feelings for the drinker instead of affecting the drinker himself." Ginny looked slightly taken aback at this, but urged her to go on. "I took the potion, but things didn't quite work out as I'd planned. I was ecstatic when Ron started to show that he liked me, but then I noticed that there were... side effects..."

"Harry liked you too." The chilly tone was back in her voice.

"Yes, but it's not like you think, Ginny, it really isn't," she pleaded. "He doesn't love me like that, not like a girlfriend. And it's the same for me, I swear. the connection between us is different, I can't really explain it, but it's like there's something magical about it, you know... like when he kissed me, everything turned into this big ball of bright light and it felt like this incredible, positive force - sort of like the opposite of a Dementor attack actually, was moving between us, it -"

"I don't want to hear it!" Ginny jumped up from the couch and moved away as though Hermione had just burned her. There were tears in her eyes now, and she was shouting. "Do you think this makes me feel better, Hermione?! Hearing you tell me that you and Harry - the guy I've been in love with for _five_ years dammit - have this _incredible, special_ connection?! That he _kisses_ you?! That doing this conjures some sort of extremely powerful magic?! What's next in your little pep-talk? That you and Harry have been destined to be together? That you're some sort of star-crossed lovers? That your love is the key to destroying Voldemort? That you'll have to have a baby together, because that baby would bring balance to the universe? Did you honestly think that hearing this would make me happy? Did you?!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. Hermione stood up.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't realise how it would sound to you, I was just trying to be honest." Her voice was trembling now, and she hated every second of this conversation. "But you must understand, there's nothing sexual between Harry and I, he doesn't fancy me, we don't want to be together as a couple! We're really good friends and we do love each other, but that's it, Ginny! I'm not a threat to you, I don't want your boyfriend!"

"So what?! So what if it's not _sexual_?! Everything isn't about sex, Hermione!"

"Really? Well it sure seems that way when you're talking."

"That's really low, but then I wouldn't expect a _frigid virgin_ to understand how it feels to be in a _rea_ l relationship."

"I'm not -" she started indignantly, but then shut her mouth and settled for a wounded look, realising what she'd almost blurted.

"Oh please! I talked to Ron after you two went on that date Saturday. He said you were so nervous he could barely touch you. He was really pleased about it, though - you know, guys and conquests and all that - talking about ‘melting the ice’ and stuff like that."

The words hit Hermione like a curse to the chest. She longed to yell back at Ginny, to tell her the truth and prove that she wasn't a frigid ice-queen. At the same time, she knew she couldn't, the price would be too high. She turned around instead, not wanting to face the angry Weasley anymore.

"I don't know what to say, Ginny. This is not how I wanted things to happen. I really don't want to ensnare Harry, and I know how you feel about him. He told me about your little meeting in the Astronomy Tower, and I know that the two of you have been sneaking around ever since. Why do you start a fight over something that's already yours? I never tried to take him from you, you know, my heart's already been taken."

She stood in silence, letting tears run down her cheeks for a few minutes. She wanted Ginny to leave so that she could crawl up in bed an cry her eyes out and get rid of the horrible pain in her chest. Then she suddenly felt two arms come around her from behind and pull her into a hug. Ginny was crying too, she realised, her tears wetting her robes.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," Ginny sobbed against her back. "I didn't mean to call you those horrible things, I was just so angry and scared."

Hermione turned around and wrapped her arms hard around her friend, holding her and letting go of her own pain. They just stood together for a long time before Hermione finally broke the silence.

"Ginny, I'm sorry too, I've made this huge mess and I never intended for the people I love most in the world to get hurt like this. I'm doing my best to sort it out though, and I hope nothing too bad will come from this..." She stroked her hand over Ginny's red hair and made her look up at her. "Listen, I know that Harry likes you, he said as much tonight when I saw him in the hospital wing. I'm really happy for you, and I want this to work out, so why don't you run up there and keep him company and I'll just go to bed with a big chunk of chocolate to try and ease my misery?"

Ginny gave a little smile and Hermione was pleased to see that her tears had stopped too.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Her smile widened and she stepped away from her friend. "I mean, I can't let him lie there all alone where any one of the lovesick little fourth-year Huffelpuffs could sweep by and make their move..." She waved her wand a couple of times and all signs of the previous crying were gone from her face and her hair arranged itself into soft, red curls. Then she turned to Hermione and did the same thing over again, looking pleased at her result.

"There, now we both look presentable again. Are you sure you'll be alright in here by yourself? I could ask Ron to stop by, I'm sure he'd be thrilled."

"I'll be fine, don't worry. And I think it's better if I don't see Ron tonight. I feel I owe it to him to sort out this whole mess properly before... well, you know..." She blushed a little and Ginny laughed.

"Seriously, Hermione, you need to learn to relax a little and realise how wonderful it can be to be close to someone. Speaking of which, I really want to go see Harry now. We’ll talk tomorrow, ok?"

And with a last hug, she was out the door. Hermione sighed and raised her wand, placing a Locking Charm and a few wards on it. Absentmindedly, she walked back into her bedroom and threw herself onto the bed, too many conflicting thoughts and feelings battling each other for her attention to be able to deal with any of them. She just burrowed her face in a pillow and lay still, trying to shut down her brain by slight suffocation. She stayed like that for a while, until a warm hand came down on her shoulder and she felt herself being turned onto her back, the pillow being firmly tugged away from her clutching arms. She opened her eyes and met his almost black ones as he lowered himself to lie by her side, half-way on top of her. His hand brushed away some stray curls from her face and neck, looking appreciatively at the way they now lay silkily smooth and shiny around her head.

"Now that was fairly interesting," he half-whispered before lowering his head to capture her lips.

***

The kiss ended and Hermione found herself caught between the desire to actually talk to her professor about what he'd just overheard, and the desire to just pull him back down to her to finish what his kiss had started. He was looking down at her expectantly, apparently waiting for her to make up her mind about what to do next, and she bit her lip in indecision before the obvious solution came to her. Who said she had to choose between sex and talking? She seemed to remember a pretty important conversation taking place on a hard desk in the middle of the potions classroom... She felt her lips curl into a naughty smile and rolled swiftly to the side, flipping Snape over and coming down on top of him. She lazily undid the buttons down the front of his robes and started pressing wet kisses along his neck and collarbone before she broke the silence.

"You were eavesdropping?"

"Naturally."

"That's not very gentlemanlike."

"I'm not a gentleman."

"Correct, so did you hear something that was of interest to you?" She'd reached his nipples now and started to suck on and bite one carefully.

"Well, it seems that I've underestimated you. You handled Miss Weasley very well, and - from what I gather from the conversation - you apparently have also managed to handle young Mr Weasley most effectively. I would not have thought it possible of you, but I'm positively surprised."

She stiffened a little but decided not to let his words faze her. Instead she undid more buttons and started exploring his chest and stomach with her lips and tongue. He was breathing heavier now, and she could feel the heat rise in his body. She smiled slightly, the bargain was in motion.

"Exactly what part of my ‘handling’ Ron do you find impressive?" She played with the skin around his waist now, teasing him, not going any further.

"The fact that you've managed to make him believe that you're an innocent, nervous and frightened little virgin of course. I had a hard time to keep myself from letting out a chuckle when I heard that one. It seems I've underestimated your dramatic skills after all."

She halted her assault on his skin for a moment and debated with herself whether to tell him the truth or not. _"No holding back,"_ she reminded herself and resumed kissing him, now working her way slowly downward, undoing the last of the buttons and letting the robes fall apart.

"I'm afraid you give me too much credit. I wasn't trying to give him that impression, but my body just wouldn't react properly and I felt guilty and pushed him away, that was all." She bent her head to get back to her other task, but his hands suddenly grabbed her and pulled her up to face him.

"Explain." Incredible how a single word could send shivers down her spine. She held his gaze firmly, allowing him to verify her words through Legillimency, should he wish to.

"I just didn't feel anything when he touched me." Her voice was almost a whisper. "What I felt was only a bleak shadow of what I feel when I'm with you." She bent her head slightly and let her lips softly brush his before she continued, "I tried to feel, I wanted to feel, but all I could think about was the fire _you_ conjure in me, the pleasure _you_ give me, the passion _we_ share. His touch, though sweet and endearing, was clumsy and inefficient, and it left me cold. I did my best to respond to him, but it just wouldn't work, because there was always you in the back of my head. How could I be with Ron when it was you that I longed for?" She ran her right hand over him, stroking his upper body, and then moving lower, stroking his length through the smooth material of his boxers.

"How long have you known?" she whispered, stroking him lightly with one finger and hearing him inhale sharply as she brushed the tip.

"That you're in love with me? Well, I've known that you were attracted to me even since before you made the potion and I suspected a crush from about the time that I caught you taking the book from my classroom. I didn't realise how deep your feelings actually ran until the time in the library though." He lifted a hand and moved it to her hair, playing with the curls and caressing her neck and face.

"You tried to seduce me in the library. You wanted to make me love you so that you could use it to torture me." Her hand was inside his shorts now and she squeezed him tightly, making him groan from the mixed pleasure and pain.

"I did, and it worked. I was very pleased with myself, it was a good performance." He smiled proudly at the memory.

"Have you ever made love honestly and without pretending?" Eyes locking, searching for answers.

"No, and I don't see the point in doing so."

"Knowledge Professor, knowledge. How could you perfectly manipulate something you don't fully understand?" She kissed him softly across the face before continuing, "Here, let me show you something about complete honesty..."

And with those words, her mouth came down on his, showing him the very depth of her feelings, holding nothing back. He stiffened for a second, but then kissed her back, allowing her to take over and guide him through this new experience.

A couple of hours later, he was lying awake, staring up at the soft fabric over the bed. Hermione was curled up against him, sleeping on his arm, with a leg thrown around his hips as though to keep him from leaving her side. There was a small smile on her face and she looked truly at peace where she lay. He envied her, as he himself had rarely been less at peace than at this moment. He was tired to be sure, but thoughts kept racing through his mind, demanding his attention.

The sex had been incredible, there was no other word for it. Hermione had made love to him with a whole new air about her. She'd done it openly and boldly, touching him with a tenderness and a sense of pride that had made his hairs stand on end. She'd touched and kissed him everywhere, taking the time to fully explore and savour his body. It had been agonising, teasing and overwhelming and he'd actually trembled in anticipation, wanting her more than he'd ever wanted anything at that moment. When she'd finally settled herself on top of him and taken him inside her she'd almost wept with the pleasure of it, and he'd felt a powerful urge to just clasp her tightly in his arms and keep her forever close to him. She'd moved slowly, mirroring his behaviour in the library, only this time, he didn't feel anywhere near as in control as he'd felt then. She'd locked her eyes to his and shown him her love for him without reserve. She'd whispered how much she loved him as she placed wet kisses along his neck, expressed it wordlessly with her lips, her hands, her body moving against his. He'd tried to take control at one point, had tried to increase the rhythm to ease the building tension, but she'd just smirked, steadied him with her knees and whispered in his ear that he wasn't going to use her like that. To hear his own words thrown back at him in that way had been incredibly sexy but also a little unsettling - he'd felt a pain in his heart and his throat thicken slightly at her words, and when her lips came down on his, his head had actually swirled a little. Most unsettling. Their lovemaking had gone on for ages and he'd ended up losing touch of time and space, redefining his world with her touch. Finally, she'd increased the rhythm and let her body go, moaning his name as she climaxed, again and again. He'd never experienced anything like it, and when she collapsed on his chest (after four consecutive orgasms as far as he could count, where she'd taken him with her over the edge at the last one), he'd felt a strange tightening in his chest, a rush of emotion towards the young girl lying on top of him. He'd moved one hand from her back, not even having realised that he was hugging her tightly, and caressed her cheek with an almost trembling hand. Her eyes had fluttered open at the touch and she'd smiled at him - a smile that was now etched at the back of his eyelids it appeared - and whispered again that she loved him. Apparently unconcerned by the chaos she wrought in him at that moment, she lowered her head to his chest, kissed it softly and then drifted off to sleep.

He'd been unable to follow her, and now he lay there, wide awake, just listening to her breathing, with the sinking feeling that there was no place he'd rather be than right there by her side.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 9 – Darkness Versus Dawn**

Hermione woke up from a pleasant dream as the man beside her moved away and left the bed. It was still night, she noticed, the only light in the room coming from the moon shining in through the window. She watched him move over to stand next to it, opening it and letting the cold January breeze sweep through the room. She shivered slightly and pulled the covers closer against her body.

She watched him from the bed as he just stood there by the window, looking out into the darkness. She figured he must be cold, but he didn't seem to mind as he didn't make any effort to shield himself against the wind. She could only see his back, the way he was facing, and she wondered what his face looked like. Silently, she stood up, wrapped herself in the covers and walked over to him.

The floor was cold against her feet, she realised, as she crossed the room. Snape still hadn't moved an inch from where he stood. The moonlight illuminated his naked body in a beautiful way, she thought, and she wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing herself against his back to give him some warmth. A shiver went through his body, whether caused by her touch or the wind she didn't know. Tentatively, she moved her chin along his upper back and shoulders, kissing them softly before working her way around his form until she came to stand in front of him. She raised her face, expecting to meet his eyes, but they were fixed at some distant point in the darkness before him. His jaw was set and he was wearing a stony expression, which in the moonlight made him look like a marble statue. She turned around and leaned back against his chest, looking out at the darkness with him. His arms came up around her and she put her head to rest against his shoulder, feeling closer to him at that moment than she ever had before.

For a long time, they remained silent and immobile, staring out into space, watching an occasional owl cross the starry skies. The moon was waning and cast a pale blue light over the snow-covered grounds and woods, below the deep, midnight blue, velvety heavens. There were no clouds tonight, Hermione noticed, which made every star appear to shine brighter from their distant locations. The night was very cold - she could see their breaths come out from their mouths, like wisps of silvery smoke, and dissolve in the clear air. Oddly enough, she didn't feel cold. She didn't feel scared either, but found the complete darkness that enveloped her soothing. She felt at peace, at home, where she stood.

"It's beautiful." Her voice was barely a whisper. He answered by pressing her a little more firmly against him.

They stood in silence for another couple of minutes before he spoke, his voice low and husky.

"I couldn't sleep, my body and mind were in too much chaos"

"The darkness is oddly comforting, it's very peaceful."

"It feels strange, sharing it with you. I've been alone in the dark for so very long. I feel like it belongs to me."

"It does. It's part of who you are, I think."

"I've always loved it, even as a young boy. The night brought peace, it put the monsters to sleep, I felt I could be safe when nobody could see me. There was a corner up in the attic where I'd hide sometimes, where I could be invisible. It was right under a skylight and I could sit there and watch the stars all night, feeling that there was actually something nice in the world. The dark and the stars, they left me alone, they let me just... be."

"I used to be afraid of the dark... when I was a little girl, you know. I used to be afraid that my parents would somehow forget about me, and that I'd wake up all alone. But then, as I grew older, I started to love it, because I realised that it wasn't the night that took my parents away from me - it was the day, when they left the house to live their busy lives. So I started to long for night to come, when I could lie in my bed and know that they were there, just a couple of rooms away from me. Sometimes, I'd get up in the dead of the night and walk down the hallway to stand in front of their bedroom door, listening to them breathing through the wood. I'd sit down on the carpet and let darkness envelop me like a warm blanket, limiting my world to the sounds of them sleeping. My father snored and my mother made little wheezing sounds every time she had a cold. It was wonderful."

They went quiet again, each losing themselves in the half-faded memories of another time. The moon moved slowly over the sky, completing its course with the two of them never taking their eyes off it. The cold air made them huddle together, keeping each other warm, wrapping the covers around both of them. Finally, Hermione turned around in her lover's arms and brought a small hand to his cheek, caressing it softly, turning his eyes on her.

"Severus, come back to bed."

It was the first time she'd spoken his name outside the throes of passion and he was fazed for a moment by how incredibly soft it sounded on her lips. Slowly, he bent his head and captured her lips in a lingering kiss before lifting her up and carrying her back to bed, where he put her down and arranged the covers over her shivering body, before joining her under them and pulling her tight against him for another kiss, quite different from the one he just administered.

***

He woke up when the first rays of sun touched his face. The protective darkness had given way to the ruthless powers of dawn yet again, and he started untangling himself from the soft form next to him, intending to go to his chambers to shower and get dressed before breakfast.

She wouldn't let him go, however. She was still asleep as far as he could tell, but her body clung to him, her arms snaking themselves around his chest, her legs holding one of his captive between her smooth thighs. He gently shook her and watched how the hazel eyes fluttered open and settled disorientedly on his own.

"Hermione, I must leave. It's already morning," he said, trying to peel her arms and legs off him. She wouldn't relent.

"No, I don't want dawn to take you away from me already." She kissed him with a passion that made him wish he could stay in bed with her all day. Unfortunately he couldn't, and he tried his best to make her realise that as she started pressing her soft body against him, running one hand down his back and buttocks. He groaned at the contact but managed to push her away from him, holding her at arm's length.

"I really must go." Her thighs let go of his leg, but she still had her hands on him, one of them caressing his chest as the other hand moved towards his face.

"Stay. We both need to take a shower, correct? Well, let's do it together, my bathroom is really nice... And,” she added mischievously, “I've always wondered how it feels to do it in water. Ginny tells me it's quite an experience." She shot him a sassy smile and rolled of the bed, not bothering to shield her body with a sheet or a dressing gown. His gaze followed her as she strolled towards the bathroom, entered and left the door open as an invitation. He could hear the shower being turned on and the water from it hitting the tiles.

Slowly, he removed himself from the bed and walked towards the open door. She was right, he needed a shower, he thought, as he crossed the bedroom and stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, closing the door behind him and stepping under the warm, cascading water and into her embrace.

***

"We're getting late for breakfast again."

The murmured words in her ear pulled her back to reality, and she reached out a weak arm to turn off the water. The sound of it hitting the tiles stopped, and the only thing to be heard was now a faint dripping and the sound of them breathing.

She looked up into his eyes, unable to put into words what she'd just experienced. Ginny was going to win "understatement of the year", that much was sure. She'd never been able to imagine what a little water could do for you, or how arousing a little soap could be... So she just looked into his eyes, a shivering smile on her lips, and saw to her surprise a small smile form on his face as well.

"Come." He opened the door and stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towels, which hung on a rack next to the wash stand.

"Funny, I think I already did."

"That's a really bad joke." He shot her a strict look, but she noticed that the smile was not completely gone from his face.

She walked over to the mirror and started drying her hair. It was dripping wet and tangled, and she feared what it would look like once dry. Big, bushy poof of a mess - if she was lucky that was... With a deep sigh, she started combing it, trying to get the worst snarls out of the long tresses. She had to get Ginny to teach her that Smoothening Charm, she thought, as she started to dry it with her wand.  
She looked into the mirror and found with a little shock that he was standing close behind her, their eyes meeting in the glass. He seemed to enjoy watching her struggle to tame the unruly curls and chuckled a little when she let out a groan of despair and threw the comb across the room.

"Easy now." He moved closer and his fingers entered her hair, massaging the scalp and making her sigh with contentment. "I don't see why this upsets you so much - you did wear your hair in this appalling fashion for close to five years after all." He chuckled as she threw him a murderous look through the glass. "Could it be that the little bookworm is becoming vain?" He pulled at one of her curls teasingly. "Vanity is a sin and a weakness, Miss Granger. Beauty, on the other hand, is a highly useful weapon, one you should practice handling more." He started to pull the hair away from her face, parting it in two and drawing his long fingers through it. "Here, let me teach you something useful..."

He began working the hair on the right side of her head, moving his fingers through it, forming it into a long French braid, which started at her temple. She watched him, mesmerised, as his hands did the same magic on the other side, and then curled the two braids into a low crown at the back of her head. He reached across to grab some pins lying on the washstand and she shivered slightly at the touch of his arm brushing against hers. Finally, he murmured a Sticking Charm, to make sure the hair would stay in place, and held up a smaller mirror so that she could see the result from behind.

Hermione let out a gasp - her hair looked incredible. The braids brought out different colours in her otherwise ordinary brown hair, showing her that it was really a mix of darker, golden and even reddish hues. Her face also looked different with her hair up like that - more mature, and her eyes looked bigger. The absence of hair in her face showed off her skin and she smiled at herself. She actually looked rather nice.

"Thank you," she whispered as she turned around and placed a soft kiss on his mouth. "Thank you so much, Severus."

"Well, thank _you_ for falling so completely for every little bait of seduction I throw your way," he answered with a smirk. "You show me that I haven't completely lost my touch, it's a good thing to know." His eyes held hers as his hands wandered over her naked form. "Also, with this little act, I've managed to create an excuse for your late appearance at the Great Hall and given myself something pretty to look at for the day. So don't believe that I did it just to be _nice_ to you."

He kissed her again and pulled her a bit closer, rubbing her soft body against him. When he finally pulled away, she was wearing that dazed expression he'd come to like so much. It meant he could do whatever he wanted with her. And she'd like it, would beg for it even. It was a great power trip. He grabbed her chin firmly in one hand and tilted her face up so that their eyes would lock together. For a while, he just looked into hers, reading her feelings and emotions in the hazel depths; then he tightened his hold on her and made sure she saw the seriousness and the soft threat in his eyes as he said:

"Never forget who I actually am, Hermione. Don't let your fantasies get mixed up with reality, and don't delude yourself that this will lead to some sort of fluffy, pink fairyland where we'll live happily ever after. I enjoy you, I might even have some feelings for you, but whether I do or not is completely irrelevant. I don't let myself be guided by my heart or by my balls, and I make my decisions coldly and in accordance to my long-term goals and ambitions. This week with you won't change my life and it won't change who I am. Remember that."

And with a last kiss, he left her.

***

Ten minutes later, Hermione came into the Great Hall and walked over to where her friends were already sitting. The minute they saw her, all conversation stopped and they just looked at her until Ginny broke the silence.

"God, Hermione, you're hair looks positively gorgeous! How did you get it to stay up like that?"

"A lot of time and failed attempts. I was afraid breakfast would be over before I got it right." Hermione smiled at her friend and laughed a little. "So, you really like it?"

"It's beautiful," Ron said with a smile, rubbing a loose tendril between his fingers. "You look very different though, all grown up sort of..." He tickled her a little at the waist and laughed as she let out a small squeal. "Now I recognise you better."

She gave him a stern look and felt annoyed that he was again treating her like a twelve-year-old. She turned to Harry and Neville, asking them what they thought and thanking them lavishly as they complimented her. Neville even got a kiss on the cheek, which turned both him and Ron bright red in the face, though for different reasons, she suspected. She felt Ron's arm encircle her waist and pull her possessively against him.

"You're not wearing your earrings today, sweet. Does that mean you don't love me anymore?" He said the words in an over-dramatic, joking way which made everybody around them laugh, but Hermione somehow found the comment less than funny.

"Of course I still love you, how could my feelings for such a perfect gentleman as yourself ever fade?" She matched his dramatic voice and delivered the line like a seasoned actress. The others laughed again and she added, more serious this time, "I just got a small infection where I pierced my ears, that's all. It needs to heal before I can wear earrings again." Ron visibly relaxed where he sat.

"Oh, ok, well why don't you go to Madam Pomfrey then? I'm sure she could put them right in a jiffy. I like seeing them on you."

She again swallowed her irritation and bit back the more honest comment that threatened to come out of her mouth. The truth of the matter was that she'd already been to see Madam Pomfrey, who had helped her get rid of the infection in less than a minute. She'd actually held up the earrings to her face this morning, debating with herself whether to put them on or not. She knew Ron would want her to wear them, but with the new hair... Her hair was just so classy and the earrings were, well, _tacky_ would be a good description. She felt she owed it to her hair not to wear them. Plus, Ron's earrings were quite heavy and made this infuriating tinkling sound when she walked. She didn't want to wear them, and so she'd left them in the bowl on her dresser. She secretly hoped that Crookshanks would get rid of them for her in her absence. Ron already hated her cat, so what harm would it do really? She smiled sweetly at Ron and then changed the subject to homework.

On the way to Charms, Neville held her back a little and asked in a low voice if they were still on for that afternoon. She'd half-forgotten about the spell she'd promised to perform on his would-be-miracle plant, but figured it would be ok. She really only needed to double-check a few facts and ask Snape a couple of questions. She smiled inwardly - that would give her a good excuse to seek him out during the lunch break... She turned to Neville and assured him that everything was fine and that she'd come with him to the greenhouse after Herbology. He smiled and put his arm around her for a quick hug, which made Ron's eyes narrow slightly. She saw his reaction and hurried to take his hand, walking close to him the remaining way to class.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 10 - An Afternoon to Remember**

Lunch was a hurried affair. Hermione had managed to check out the books she'd wanted from the library during morning break, and had luckily had her theories confirmed. Now she only needed to check a few last things with the Potions master, and she'd be ready to perform the spell to complete Neville's plant. She'd sent him an owl before Charms, telling him that she needed to see him during her break, and noticed now that he wasn't present at the teachers' table. Figuring that he was probably waiting for her, she threw down a few spoonfuls of soup and put her sandwich in her bag for later. Neville offered to come with her, to make sure Snape didn't give her a hard time, but she politely declined, telling him to enjoy his food and that she'd see him in class.

She almost ran down the empty corridors and took the steps down the dungeon stairs two at the time. Lunch break was an hour. She had forty-five minutes left - enough time for what she was supposed to do (ask a few Potion-related questions) and not nearly enough time for what she wanted to do (make love to her professor all afternoon). Finally, she found herself at his door and knocked with a trembling hand.

"Enter!" Harsh and unpleasant. She smiled and opened the door.

Snape was sitting at his desk, a pile of essays in front of him. He didn't look up as she walked in and didn't show any sign that he knew she was even there, as she walked down the aisle and up to his desk. Completely unfazed by his behaviour, she moved to stand behind his chair, then leaned forwards, removed his hair from one side of his face and kissed his neck playfully.

"Miss Granger, I was expecting you sooner and I don't like to be kept waiting." He still didn't look up at her, but dipped his quill in the red ink on his desk and started trashing another essay.

"I had to make an appearance in the Great Hall," she said as she started massaging his shoulders. "Now, I have to be in Herbology in exactly...” she consulted her watch, “... 43 minutes, so if you don't mind, I have some questions to ask you."

"What kind of questions?" His eyes were still on the essay in front of him, which was growing increasingly red, she noticed.

"Well, only one really: If one was to transfigure a plant with powerful healing properties so that the effects would work on the mind instead of the body, using a Target Modification Spell, what side effects could one expect, if any?"

This got his attention. He looked up from his essays and turned to face her, a curious glimmer in his eyes.

"Not attempting another love potion, I hope." He eyed her intently.

"Nothing like that. I've learnt my lesson like a good little girl. This is for Herbology," she stated, looking back at him and trying not to get too distracted by how badly she wanted to go and sit on his lap.

"Then I suggest you go see Professor Sprout." He turned his back at her again and went back to the offending essay.

"I would, except this is really a case of Potion Transfiguration more than it is about pure Herbology, and that's really your area of expertise, which you've already made sure to point out to me." She leaned across his desk and stroked the wood softly with one hand, close to where his own lay, circling his fingers with her own without touching him.

"Well then, come with me."

He put a big "P" at the top of the essay and threw it into a pile of others he had already marked, then stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves lining the classroom. He took out an old and very dusty book from one of the top shelves and flipped through the pages, his lips moving rapidly as he recalled and recited different scraps of information. He handed her another book and she followed his example, sitting down on a desk with the book in her lap. For a couple of minutes, all that was heard was the turning of pages and the pulling down and replacing of books.

"What type of mental damage more specifically?" Hermione looked up from her book and turned towards her professor.

"Complete memory loss, Crucio-induced insanity," she answered calmly, watching his expression. As usual, he showed none, and merely acknowledged her words with a small nod. After a few more minutes of silence, he spoke again, closing the last book as he did.

"Well, your best alternative is to work in two stages: first transfigure the plant - the spell you've chosen should be appropriate - and then modify the potion brewed from it to compensate for side effects. I would suggest an advanced Healing Potion base, where you'd replace the Mandrake root with this magical plant. Then modify this concoction with special mind-enhancing and memory-boosting substances, such as powdered dragon claw and unicorn hair. I trust you have the complete list and are capable of choosing the appropriate ingredients and quantities..." He paused for a while, apparently thinking hard, before he continued, "It's an interesting challenge, and one which would undoubtedly bring you much glory, should you succeed. A word of advice, however..." He put his book back on the shelf and walked to stand close by her, his hands placed on either side of her thighs as he leaned in, putting his face but inches from hers. "There are people who would not look kindly upon the magical and complete restoration of two powerful Aurors. Utter discretion is absolutely vital for your safety, remember that."

She nodded her head to show that she understood and looked into his eyes, which were dark and serious. They remained where they were, neither moving away from the other, their bodies so close that Hermione could feel the energy coming off him in little waves. She saw the expression in his eyes gradually change, going from sober seriousness to burning passion in the space of a few minutes. She swallowed hard, feeling her body begin to heat up...

"How many minutes?" His voice was low and raspy, his jaw tightly set.

"Twenty-four and a half." Her breathing was very quick now and she had problems getting the words out.

"Not nearly enough," he breathed in her ear before kissing her hard and clasping her to him, putting her legs up around his waist before attacking the buttons down her front.

***

With five minutes left to go of her lunch break, Hermione fastened the last button on her robes, placed a last kiss on Severus's lips and hurried out of the classroom. The greenhouses were some distance away, but she felt that she could make it on time, if only she wasn't delayed by anyone on her way there...

She'd barely finished the thought when:

"Hermione! Wait!"

The voice made her stop dead in her tracks. Turning around, she saw Neville move away from the shadows next to the door and move towards her. He didn't look good, to say the least; his face was ashen and he wore an expression of absolute shock. Already before he opened his mouth, Hermione knew what he was going to say, knew what he must have heard standing just outside the classroom. Quickly, she took him by the arm and pulled him into an empty broom closet, pulling her wand out to lock the door behind them and add a Silencing Charm as she went.

"Three questions Hermione: why?, how long? and _why_?" Neville looked up at her from where he'd collapsed on top of a upside-down bucket, his eyes imploring her to tell him it wasn't true, that he hadn't actually heard her moan the name of his most hated professor in passion. For a couple of seconds, the idea of just Obliviating him formed in her mind, but she found she couldn't do it. Not to him, not to a man who'd lost both his parents to insanity and amnesia.

Instead, she found herself sinking down on a bucket next to him, taking his hands in hers and telling him the whole story of the potion that went wrong, being completely honest and leaving nothing out - well, except for the more detailed stories about her and Snape's little adventures, as she figured Neville would probably throw up if he had to hear that.

Neville remained quiet the whole time she spoke, and when she finally finished, he stood up, pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her in a fierce hug. The tension that had been building up the past week finally broke inside her and she started crying against his chest. She cried for the people she had, and would, unwillingly hurt, cried from the pain of having to lie to her best friends, of having to sneak around like a thief in the night, always afraid of getting caught. She cried because she knew she didn't love the guy she wanted to love and she cried more because of the pain of loving a man who probably didn't love her back, and whom she didn't want to love in the first place. She cried about the misunderstandings, about the fights, about the impossible situation she now found herself in. She felt imprisoned by her own feelings, the thought of not being with Severus driving a dagger through her heart. She knew what she wanted could never be. Still, she'd never wanted anything else in her life so ardently. Neville just stroke her over her back and let her cry until she was all out of tears.

When she finally stopped, he took hold of her chin and tilted her face back to look into her eyes. He looked at her for a few seconds, then bent his neck and placed a soft kiss on her lips. In his touch was the same unconditional, chaste love she'd felt the night in the greenhouse, and the gentleness made her heart ache and another few tears roll down her cheeks. He lifted his head slowly and looked deep into her eyes, making sure she could see the love he held for her there. His voice was soft as he spoke:

"I love you, Hermione. There is nothing you could possibly do that would take that feeling away from me. I'll help you sort this out, I promise, but we'll have to talk more later, ok? We're really late for Herbology as it is..." He broke off at the sudden flash of panic on her face.

"No one else must know this, Neville! Especially not Ron or Ginny! Promise me you won't tell them, please, please, promise me!" Her voice was desperate as she clung to him, hugging him tightly.

"Shh, I promise. I won't tell a living soul, this is your business after all, and I don't like gossip." He held her close for a few moments more, soothing her fears, assuring her of his silence before he released her and they stepped apart.

"Thank you, Neville, I can't tell you how good it feels to finally get that weight off my chest," she said, a smile forming on her lips again. "You are truly a gentleman."

"Somebody must be there for the fair damsels in distress," he answered in a half-mocking voice and held out an arm to her. "Come milady, the class awaits."

He drew his wand and deactivated her charms, then started to open the door to the corridor before he hesitated.

"Wait, I can't let you come into class like this, everybody will be able to see that you've been crying." Mirroring the wand movements Ginny had made the night before, he put her face back to what it had been before he caught up with her. It was still a little flushed, he noticed, but at least the puffy red eyes were gone... she'd do alright...

He opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Hermione firmly held his hand, he realised, and smiled at the pleasant contact.

They stepped right into a hoard of fourth-year Hufflepuffs that were waiting for their class to begin outside the Potions classroom. At the sight of the two people emerging from a broom closet, hand in hand, the girl looking flushed, the guy smiling, titters and whispers immediately broke out, and there was quite a bit of gawking and pointing before Hermione and Neville managed to get away. They hurriedly ascended the stairs, leaving the younger students behind.

They half-ran down the corridors, crossed the Entrance Hall and made their way to the greenhouses. When they were almost there, Hermione slowed them down and took a minute to catch her breath as she looked worriedly up at Neville.

"You realise, of course, what rumours will have spread through the entire school by dinner time?"

"Yes, but I've been thinking that perhaps that is a good thing." She furrowed her eyebrows at him, not understanding what he meant.

"Look at it like this: your main priority is to conceal your affair with our dear professor, correct?" She nodded, still eyeing him intently. "Your second priority is to get out of this sticky situation with as few people hurt as possible, also correct I assume." Again, she nodded, wondering what he was getting at. "Well, it seems to me like you have just come a great deal closer to both your goals - I'm your alibi,” he said with a would-be-casual shrug of his shoulders. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

And he walked off towards the greenhouses, leaving her stunned as the meaning of his words sank in. She quickly ran after him and stopped him walking away with a fierce hug, whispering thanks and how sorry she was in his ear. He gave her a slight hug back and a little smile, before taking her hand and walking the last twenty yards to the greenhouse door, letting go of her as they stepped inside.

***

The greenhouse was buzzing with activity and nobody seemed to notice as Hermione and Neville stepped through the door. The class was replanting Kung-fu seedlings, and dirt was flying all over the place as the students desperately tried to stop the yellow plants from fighting long enough to push them into a pot of fresh dirt. There were frequent yelps of pain or surprise heard, and the glass walls had fogged up completely due to rapid breathing and perspiration. Hermione and Neville smiled, this was a good thing.

While Neville made his way over to where Professor Sprout was helping Seamus with his plant, which was trying to spin-kick them both with its thick roots, Hermione snuck away towards an empty work table at a far corner of the room. She started filling a deep pot with fresh dirt and sighed at the sensation of sinking her hands down into it. It was nice to work with your hands, she thought, very relaxing. Happily, she filled another pot, then another.

When Neville came back, she had ten pots ready on the table. He was carrying a tray of plants and put them down before her. At her unspoken question, he reassured her in a low voice that they weren't going to be punished for their tardiness, and that he'd told Professor Sprout that they had been working out problems surrounding his special project, which was basically true, since Hermione had been able to get some information out of Snape on the subject of his plant. She saw the tension in his face and realised how much he must hate lying to his favourite teacher and deceiving people in general. He didn't want to do this, but he still did, out of loyalty and love for her. It was deeply touching. She smiled at him, and was relieved when he smiled back and squeezed her hand softly on the table. Then he grabbed a kicking plant with a firm grip and set to work. She followed his example.

A few tables away, next to the wall facing the school, another student found it hard to concentrate. His eyes narrowed as he observed the couple working together in the corner. Was there something going on between them? Impossible, it just couldn't be, Hermione had more class than that... Then he remembered that she had dated Viktor Krum, aka the grouchy git, in her fourth year, and his mood soured - what was Longbottom playing at? He'd seen them coming down the path from the castle together - over half an hour late - and had seen how they'd stopped, how something had been said and how Neville had stalked away. She'd run after him and basically thrown herself around him, whispering things in his ear, as far as he could see through the little window he'd made for himself in the fog on the glass. And now they were here and working together, acting all cute and cuddly... Something was very wrong - she was supposed to be _his_ girlfriend after all...

Ron Weasley slammed his plant into the pot and decided that he needed to have a talk with Hermione.

***

When class ended, dusk had fallen over the greenhouses. The Gryffindors put their things away and made their way out the door, exhausted and dirty after fighting the plants for a double period. Neville and Hermione hung back, having decided to leave last so that fewer people would notice them sneaking over to the other greenhouse. Opting for discretion quickly turned out to be a failure though, as Ron made his way over to them with a fuming expression on his face.

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?" His voice was shivering slightly with anger, and he threw a sour look at Neville and added, "in private?"

She looked at him, trying to figure out what he was upset about. Surely it couldn't be that he was jealous of Neville? Even the younger Hufflepuffs couldn't spread a rumour _that_ quickly, (only some of the Slytherins and Gryffindors would possibly have been able to) so Ron couldn't possibly have heard what she was sure was now the very compromising story about exiting the broom closet. She sighed and decided to deal with it, whatever it was.

"Alright then." She turned to her partner. "Neville, why don't you go and start getting things set up, and I'll join you as soon as I can?" Neville looked slightly reluctant to leave, and she shot him a pleading look, indicating with a tip of her head a couple of girls in her year that had stopped just inside the door and were now eyeing the trio with interest. Neville muttered something about filthy gossips and exited the greenhouse. Hermione followed him with his eyes until the door clicked shut and then turned her attention to Ron.

"So, what's the problem?" She tried to sound kind but heard an impatient snappy tone in her voice, indicating that she'd rather be somewhere else at the moment.

"Why don't you tell me?" Ron's voice was rising, making the people at the door visibly listen harder as they pretended to be stuffing things in their bags. "You're supposed to be _my_ girlfriend! In spite of this, I practically haven't seen you since Saturday, you're always busy, always going up to your room to study, always telling me you want to be left alone..." His words filled Hermione with guilt and she looked down at the floor, not able to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I know that I haven't seen you much lately, but there were things I just had to do, and you were having detention with Filch anyway," she reminded him, able to look up at him now.

"So what? They didn't last for that long each night! You could have come to see me afterwards, or you could have let me stop by your chambers -" He broke off at the expression of fear on her face, completely misinterpreting her thoughts. "Oh God, don't tell me you're still upset about what happened up at the mountain? Seriously, Hermione, I know that I went a bit too far, but you're acting like I tried to rape you or something! I -"

"Ron, please, not here!" Hermione ushered through her teeth, indicating the girls still at the door with desperation. Ron went silent and looked around, spotting the eavesdroppers.

"Hey, get out of here will you! This is bloody private!" he called to them angrily. They blushed and hurried out the door, whispering enthusiastically to one another. Ron made sure they were running up to the castle before turning back to face Hermione.

"Ok, they're gone. Now will you please tell me?" He looked at her intently, stepping a bit closer.

"I, er..." She didn't know what to say. A calculating little voice at the back of her head urged her to grasp the opportunity and play the scared-virgin-card for all that it was worth. Another, stronger voice, told her that that would be a despicable thing to do. She looked back down at her feet.

"Hermione, listen to me. I think I know what's going on here." Ron gently took her hand and led her over to a work table, popping her up on it so that their eyes came to be on the same level. Another pang of guilt hit her as memories of herself in a similar position some hours earlier flashed through her mind. She bit her lip and kept her eyes on her lap. Ron spoke again:

"You avoid me, only see me at times when there are others about, never touch me more than holding my hand or giving me a light hug, and you seem uncomfortable around me. At the same time, you're very attentive to Harry, and you practically throw yourself at Neville, always whispering things in his ear or smiling at him or touching him in different ways." She remained silent, wondering where he was going with this. "Don't you think I understand? You're using Neville to keep you safe! You know that he's completely inexperienced and that he'd never dare approach you sexually - and you take advantage of that! You don't have enough courage to come out of your ice shell of propriety and be a woman, so instead you hide behind him. It's not fair Hermione, it's just not nice to do that to him, making him think that he might have a chance with you when -"

"When what? Why would it be so impossible for me to actually like him?" Her voice was icy and made him draw back a little.

"Come on Hermione! That's ridiculous! Ginny told me that you've fancied me for _years_ , and even if you hadn't, it's Neville! _Neville_ , Hermione! I mean, I don't have anything against him, he's a nice bloke and all, but come on! He's not the slightest bit attractive, and he isn't good at anything - well, except for Herbology, but unless you think dirt is really sexy -"

"How can you even say that?! He's your _friend_ , Ron! Does that mean nothing to you?" The icy quality in her voice had given way for more burning emotions, and she felt her anger build as her voice got louder. "Neville is probably the most wonderful guy I've ever met. He's sweet, considerate, polite, brave, romantic, loyal, attentive - do you want me to keep the list going?" she almost shouted, jumping down from the table and turning on him. "Your head has been so inflated by your Quidditch success that you now fail to recognise anything that isn't achieved on a broom! Neville's not stupid, he's not ugly and he's not weak! He's developed incredibly over the last year, and I doubt that you could take him in a duel by now, Ron. And by the way, who of you is in Advanced Potions _and_ Advanced Transfiguration and who of you isn't?!" She looked at him defiantly, shaking slightly from her outburst.

"That's not fair!" Ron's ears were bright red now, she noticed. "I'm not some stupid jock, you know, and I'm perfectly happy not being in those classes! I don't want to be an Auror anymore, I want to play professional Quidditch or work with dragons the way Charlie does! I don't need those classes, so why would I want to submit myself to the torture of McGonagall, who's more dried up than a shrivelled fig, and Snape, who's probably the most pathetic, bitter, despicable and sorry excuse for a teacher there ever was!? _Hermione!_ Come back here!"

He hurried down the aisle after her, as she'd stalked away after his last words. He caught up with her a few yards away from the door and turned her around, keeping a firm grip on her upper arms.

"Let me go, I don't want to listen to you anymore." She struggled slightly and he tightened his grip.

"Why? Because I said something bad about McGonagall? Come on, Hermione, I know you want to be just like her, but I don't think the sexless spinster act is the way to go!"

She almost slapped him at those words, pulling her arms away from his grip and shouting back at him:

"She's one of the best Transfiguration Mistresses in the world and an incredible teacher! So is Professor Snape, by the way - his skill with potions is unquestionable, even Professor Dumbledore is impressed sometimes, he told me, and I don't think I've learned as much in any other class as I've learnt in his. They're both strict and they demand excellence, but that's what makes us learn! They deserve our respect, Ron!"

"Respect? Ok, I can respect McGonagall, 'cause she's pretty decent and Head of our House and all, but don't tell me to respect Snape! He's a greasy old miserable Slytherin git, who's in a never-ending nasty temper 'cause he hasn't got laid in the past - well - _ever_ , and he probably never will since he's so _disgusting_!"

Hermione was blushing now and felt she should just get away from Ron before she said something stupid, but found that she was shouting at him even louder, her mouth seemingly detached from her brain.

"What does his sex life have to do with his teaching abilities?!! Seriously, has your entire brain flowed down to your lower parts? Are you completely addled by your hormones? You know _nothing_ about Professor Snape's private life and it's really none of your concern! Neither is Professor McGonagall's! They might do it around the clock, for all you know, or they might be completely celibate, but in either case, you have absolutely _nothing_ to do with it and you should really keep your prejudiced and offensive comments to yourself, _they're_ what's disgusting!"

She turned on her heel to storm out of there, but he grabbed her again and pulled her close against him. Before she could voice a protest, he kissed her hard, taking full possession of her mouth. She struggled to get away but his grip was firm. His tongue was in her mouth, moving around, trying to get hers to respond. She saw no other way...

"Aow!!! Bloody hell!!!" Ron jumped away from her, one hand clutched to his mouth. He held it in front of him and saw blood on one finger. "You bit my tongue!" He looked absolutely livid.

"I did and I'm happy about it!" she retorted, equally angry. "What made you think that you could just kiss me like that after what you just said? Is insulting good people some sort of sick turn-on for you? Or did one of your precious brothers tell you that the best way to get a girl to stop talking is to just shut her up?!" A violent blush spread across Ron's face at her last words. "Let me guess, Fred? Fred and his airhead model girlfriends? What did he say? That women pick fights to make the sex more passionate? That we annoy you on purpose to make your baser instincts surface? That we're just protesting to make you go harder on us because we secretly wish to be dominated?!

Ron was looking a bit ashamed now, and he repeatedly opened his mouth as if to speak. She didn't give him a chance as the shouting continued.

"You know, Ron, I bit your tongue because I didn't want to kiss you, not because I don't enjoy kissing! I'm not a bloody ice-queen and I'm not scared of sex! You're just not doing anything for me, and this jealous pop-psych crap you pull up as an excuse to why you haven't been able to get me in the sack is just plain pathetic! You don't own me, and I'm starting to believe that I never actually was your girlfriend. One date doesn't constitute a relationship, you know, and the way you're behaving right now, I'd rather date a Blast-Ended Skrewt!" The anger went out of her as she saw Ron's face change from angry to crushed and she lowered her voice.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't think that this is going to work."

And with those words, she went out the door, leaving Ron standing alone in the middle of the room, pain written on his face.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 11 - Taking a Bath**

About three hours later, Hermione entered her room and closed the door behind her. She put a locking charm and several wards - including a nasty one which would burn anyone who tried to force the door knob - on all doors to her chambers. Then she added a Silencing Charm on the entire living room. She wanted to be alone, and therefore cast an extra little spell, which would make those words appear in red on the outside of all doors leading into her quarters. She was still dirty from Herbology, and magically and emotionally exhausted on top of that. She felt like crap.

After the horrible fight with Ron, she'd run to the other greenhouse and thrown herself into Neville’s arms, crying uncontrollably. He'd comforted her and dried her tears like before, listening patiently to her problems. He was truly wonderful, she thought with a smile. After about an hour, she'd been sufficiently calm to start working on the plant. She'd been extremely careful and thorough, concentrating fully on her task and putting her heart and soul into her work. So far, her spell seemed to have worked: the patterns on the leaves of the plant had changed from skeleton-like to resembling the coils of a brain. It looked promising, but there was still the potion to be brewed later on. She sighed and was rather glad that the plant would need to grow for an additional seven weeks before it would be ready for harvest. At the same time, she was impatient to see if the potion would really work. She truly hoped so, for Neville's sake.

She kicked off her shoes and left them lying on the carpet next to her couch. Next came her robes and her underwear. With her books, papers and notes she was always extremely organised, but somehow she didn't feel as strongly about her clothes, especially not clothes that were covered with dirt. She went into the bathroom and decided that what she needed to get her energy back was a long soak in a tub. She didn't have one, but that was nothing you couldn't fix with a wand and top-of-the-class Transfiguration skills...

She magically enlarged the room inwardly to three times its original size, then set about creating a deep pool at the wall opposite the mirror and wash stand. She made it in the design of a Roman bath, but let the front wall grow out of the floor to about four feet tall, adding some steps on one side. The pool itself was made deep enough so that she would be able to stand in it and just hold her head above water. Steps were added on the inside as well, so that she would be able to wade into it, and not have to jump down and splash water all over the place. She then made one end more shallow and added an underwater seat where she'd be able to just sit and relax and let massaging currents work her sore spots. Finally, she added soft lights at the bottom, which would shine through the water, gleaming taps, with different types of bubble bath mixed into the water, and candles all around the edge of the pool, fastened in silver chandeliers on the walls surrounding it.

She took a step back and took in the sight. She was proud of herself, the bath was a vision - a gleaming beauty in white, aquamarine and silver. She put her wand on the wash stand and moved over to turn on the water, watching contently as it filled the deep pool. Almost dreamily, she moved backwards and reached out her hand to grab her wand and light the candles. It had disappeared.

She spun around and came face to face with her Potions master, who was standing in the doorway, sliding her wand casually between his long fingers...

***

"Looking for this?" His voice was slightly teasing, silkily smooth as always. "By all means, let me assist you." With a flick of her wand, the candles around the pool sprang to life, the small flames reflecting in the water like shimmering gold. Another flick, and soft classical music bagan to play - a slow piano concert by the sound of it.

Hermione was momentarily stunned, both by the beauty of the lights at the pool and by the sudden appearance of her unexpected guest, but managed to clear her head and think again after only a few moments.

"I warded all entries to my chambers."

"I used the fireplace."

"Including the fireplace."

“I know. Rather intricate work. It took me quite a while to disable." He had a slight smirk on his face, she noticed. Somehow, that charmed her more than it annoyed her.

"I put them there because I wished to be alone."

"So I figured."

"And still you invade my privacy?"

"Our time together runs out in about 36 hours. We struck a bargain to use it well." He let his gaze slide pointedly along her body, which was covered only in a white, fluffy towel. She blushed a little.

"Well, I'm tired. I've had a really hard day."

"So have I." She couldn't help but laugh at the suggestive tone in his voice.

"I bet. Unfortunately for you, I don't feel up to verifying that. I really would just like to take a bath and relax for a while. Maybe you could come back later...?" She put on her best seductive face, drawing a chuckle from him, which made her feel slightly affronted.

"Actually, a bath would be rather nice." She watched, dumbstruck, as he started to unbutton his robes, letting them fall to the floor. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"As I said, I'm really tired," she whispered, as he put down her wand and walked up to her. In response, he reached out his hand in invitation.

"Then, by all means, let us get into that pool and relax for a while," he said huskily.

With only a slight tremor of hesitation, she lifted her arm, took his hand and let him lead her into the pool.

***

The water was just the right temperature, warm but not scalding. She sighed deeply as it covered her body, more and more fully with each step she took down into the pool. When standing at the bottom, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, putting it under water. This was heaven. While still under water, she felt two hands cup the back of her head, a small force go through her and then felt her hair tumbling free of its braids. It flowed out around her, swaying like sea grass in the clear water. She lifted her head up into the air, preparing her lips for the first kiss, but found that he wasn't next to her anymore. She looked around and spotted him over at the shallow end of the pool, resting in her underwater seat and enjoying a nice massage.

The bastard. That was _her_ seat. She swam over to him to tell him so.

When she reached his side, however, she hesitated. He looked so comfortable where he lay, his head leaned back onto the cushioned head support, his eyes closed, his face... peaceful. She couldn't remember him looking actually peaceful before - even the tension in his jaw was gone. She stood next to him for a while, debating with herself about what to do, when his eyes opened and turned in her direction.

"Come, Hermione, this is very enjoyable." One of his arms came around her and pulled her effortlessly through the water, placing her on top of him as though his body was the actual seat. It was comfortable, she decided, leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder as he started massaging her shoulders, neck and arms. She'd been wrong before - _this_ was heaven.

He kneaded all the muscles in her upper body, then turned her around so that he could do her legs and feet as well. When he had finished, he pulled her back to rest on top of him, her back to his chest and his legs moulding themselves smoothly to hers. He held her lightly around her waist, and they just lay there for a long time, feeling the water moving around them and being completely relaxed. She felt her brain grow foggy, but didn't care to fight the sensation as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Severus noted the change in her breathing and felt a little spark going through him. She felt safe with him, sufficiently at ease to drift off to sleep in a bath, trusting him to keep her above water. It was touching. It was also incredibly stupid. Her naïveté could easily be her downfall, and the downfall of so much more. It was painfully evident to him how easy it would be to lure her into a trap, to deliver her to the Dark Lord and wait for Potter to come to her rescue, a rescue attempt which reasonably should fail. He had the opportunity to be the lead player in the battle that would ensure the Dark Lord victory. The rewards would be substantial... On the other hand, if there was one thing he'd learnt from the last six years at Hogwarts, it was that the insufferable Potter-child should never be underestimated. The boy had more lives than a cat on immortality potion - any normal student would have died going through what he had, several times over. Potter just kept ticking for some reason, and he'd already managed to fight off the Dark Lord (in his risen form) twice, which was truly exceptional. Strong magic was behind the boy, magic he didn't want to openly oppose...

Long before he even became a Death Eater, he'd learnt that the key to survival was to keep in the background, and to always, always make sure to cover your back. The double allegiance and his role as a double-spy had got him through the first war, as well as through the time of peace until the present. If he played his cards right, he might succeed in keeping both his masters convinced of his loyalty, and ensure that he'd be on the winning side at the end, whichever side that might be. If he could manage to never openly take a side, he'd possibly make it through, which lead to the conclusion that using Hermione as a weapon would be very inadvisable. If he delivered her to the Dark Lord, he would have burnt his bridges with Albus, and if Potter somehow did the impossible and brought down his nemesis, there would be nothing left for Severus Snape - except a cell in Azkaban.

Were he to be completely truthful, he'd actually prefer the Dark Lord to lose. Though he sympathised more with the Death Eaters on most issues concerning Dark Magic, and couldn't stand most of the people in the Order, he found that it was more convenient to be under the protection and power of people who were "good", in the sense that they had moral boundaries. He was freer under Dumbledore, and as long as he was discrete, he could do pretty much anything he wanted. He wasn't even that worried about Albus's reaction, were he ever to find out about his present situation. For him, a 38-year-old teacher, to be sexually involved with a student - an underage student at that, since Hermione wouldn't turn seventeen for another eight months - was violently against school policy and most peoples' sense of propriety. Still he didn't worry. The present war made him indispensable for the Order, and Dumbledore's Gryffindor morals would prevent him from firing him or sending him away from the castle, since that would basically be the equivalent of wrapping him up in some pretty ribbons and sending him over to the Dark Side. Albus could not afford losing him, not as long as the Dark Lord was still alive and active. It was a comforting thought.

What Albus would probably do, should he find out that his Potions master was bedding the Head Girl, was to put on his fatherly face and try to make him see the error of his ways. Severus had already had this conversation in his head, thinking up ways to sidestep every possible argument the old man could throw his way. He figured that his best approach would be to convince the Headmaster that he was actually in love with the girl. Albus was a former Gryffindor after all, and though he'd never been able to quite understand it, Gryffindors in general seemed to hold love as the highest of virtues, the goal of existence, even the reason for life itself. Love and glory, the two Achilles' heels of the lion house, so easily exploited...

If his other master were to find out, on the other hand, things would be more difficult, but still manageable. The Dark Lord would insist that he hand over the girl, but he could probably make him see the wisdom of letting her remain at Hogwarts, where Severus would be able to work on her, making her slowly shift towards the Dark Side, creating, in the end, a faithful spy and weapon right in the Boy-Who-Lived's inner circle. The Dark Lord would like the idea - intimate betrayal had always been a favourite of his, which was probably why he hadn't yet killed Peter Pettigrew, despite the man's many mistakes.

Severus smiled to himself. Intriguing and strategising were in his blood, always had been, and he rarely felt as alive as when he was in the middle of an especially intricate plot. Still, another side of him found it tiresome to always be watchful, to always try to figure out the ulterior motives behind people's actions. He liked being alone and had never felt lonely. Other people just complicated his life and took him away from what he'd rather be doing.

Oddly enough, this feeling didn't extend to Hermione. It was probably mainly due to the fact that, while influenced by the potion, she _was_ what he'd rather be doing... He smirked to himself and let his hands stroke her soft curves under water. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually liked her. She was intelligent and sexy, with a practical mind and some sassy ways about her. She was a whole lot less annoying in private than she was in class, not trying so hard to impress, being more relaxed. Most of all, he liked the way she just let him be, how she didn't try to "save" him or "pull him into the light". She genuinely seemed to like the darkness in him, perhaps having found something that matched some repressed part of her own personality? He wondered what it would be like to go back to the way things used to be after the week was out.

While pondering all this, his hands apparently had gone their own ways, caressing the sleeping body that lay moulded to his. Her hair was floating around her head and her mouth was slightly open, her breathing indicating that his touch affected her even through the layers of sleep. He smoothly slid off the underwater seat, scooping her up in his arms and moving to the deeper part of the pool. The water made her feel weightless, and the possibilities of lessened gravity brought a grin to his face. Sure, one could accomplish much the same effect with a Levitation Charm, but there was something special about having sex in water. The shower had been good, but he had a feeling that this pool would serve them even better. Feeling himself grow hard, he turned the girl in his arms and woke her up with a hungry kiss.

***

Hermione was floating, her dream from the week before replaying in her head, only this time, it was real. She arched her back as strong hands lifted her upwards, gradually moving her from a horizontal position to float on the surface of the pool. The transition was tantalizingly slow and for every inch that came above water, he moved his lips over her wet skin, kissing his way down her neck, chest and stomach. She leaned back and just enjoyed the sensations, too relaxed to do much else but smile and rest her head on the water. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave a small gasp as his lips moved past her bellybutton and found her most sensitive spot. Lifting her head as much as she could without going under water, she looked at him and saw mischief sparkle in his eyes. He moved his tongue over her in one lazy stroke and her eyes widened. Surly he wouldn't...? Not again...? God, she didn't know how much more she could take... She felt her breathing quicken as he continued to stroke her with his lips and tongue.  
"Severus... please... I can't... not again!" she half-panted, eyes pleading as she looked at him.

In response, he only intensified his efforts, dismissing her pleas with a small shake of his head. Again, she was helpless against his touch and the response of her own body as she felt the tension rise, higher and higher, putting her close to the edge, but always taking a dip every time she thought she'd finally go over it. He held her firmly, preventing any movements on her part, taking full control, subjecting her to his power. It was agony, incredible agony. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

“Severus, stop this! ...Stop teasing me this way! Her voice was almost a groan.

"Funny, I was under the impression that you rather enjoyed it." Somehow, he managed to say the entire sentence in a slow drawling voice without giving her a moment's respite. The man really was a wizard, she thought admiringly.

"Well, I could enjoy it more, if you get my point..." she said and tried to wriggle closer against him.

"Say 'please'," he murmured against her, "I like hearing you beg..."

"I don't beg - " she started, indignantly, but was cut off as he removed a hand from her back and synchronised the movements of his mouth with his long, smooth fingers. The little presence of mind she'd had rapidly left her and she didn't care what she said anymore, she'd do anything, _anything_ to have him grant her release.

"Really, Miss Granger? _Anything?_ " he chuckled, and she realised that she must have voiced her plea out loud. "Well I do have a little something in mind..." His voice was suggestive and she knew she was being blackmailed. At the moment, she really didn't care though.

"Yes," she moaned, arching her back further, falling under water for a few seconds, not caring, "yes, I'll do anything you ask me... just let me.. please... please, Severus, I'm just so close... please..." Her voice grew into a whimper and ended in a gasp as he turned his fingers inside her and started rubbing her g-spot, while the movements of his tongue intensified on its outside target.

Severus saw, heard and felt all the telltale signs of her imminent climax and toyed with the idea of letting her suffer yet a little while longer. The way she shuddered and arched and moved about, however, made it hard for him to keep her above water with only one arm. Also, the knowledge of what would come was too tempting, and with a final acceleration of his movements, he let her have what she wanted.

He kept stimulating her for several minutes longer, prolonging her experience and allowing himself the pleasure of watching her. God, he loved the way she tilted her head back and cried out his name, loved the way she shuddered and the way her muscles convulsed around him. Her every reaction was intriguing to him, because it was honest, and honesty was something he hadn't received from many women - if any - before her... He'd pleased them, had even managed to seduce a few hearts back in his earlier Death Eater days, but he'd never been actually interested in their reactions to him, other than for what it meant for the ultimate goal. Sex with them had been pleasurable and he'd always enjoyed a challenge, but they'd all melted together in his mind, and he'd found himself growing bored quickly, moving on to the next pretty face that Lucius or one of the other Death Eaters introduced him to.

Truth be told, he had expected to be bored with his young student by now. Several days ago as a matter of fact. That was one reason he approached her so often (well that, and the fact that he couldn't get her out of his mind), he was waiting for the sensation of being with her to "get old", for their lovemaking to grow stale and for the excitement of newly achieved conquest to wear off. So far, it hadn't, and if anything, the passion and interest he had for her seemed to grow stronger. It was most troublesome.

He'd taken the half hour between the time she'd left his classroom that afternoon and the start of his following class to thoroughly analyse exactly how he felt about the girl. He knew the potion only affected his own self-control, forcing him to act on his passions. That would be gone shortly, and he'd be able to control his body again, but whatever he felt towards the young Gryffindor would stay... so what did he actually feel?

He pulled her closer, drawing her back in to hold her against him. She still had her eyes closed and he enjoyed the sight as his eyes wandered over her body.

Physically, he craved her, loved the way her body felt against him, had never felt so good as in some of the moments with her. Since his initiation some twenty years back, he'd never been unsure of his abilities in bed, but bedding Hermione made him feel like some sort of god. It was extremely gratifying for his ego and made sleeping with her even more attractive. It was a dangerous drug, not unlike power.

Emotionally, he still felt that he had himself under control. He'd started to appreciate her company and found that when by herself, she was a lot less irritating than most other people he knew, and infinitely less so than the Hermione Granger he knew from Potions class. Without her friends around, and without the need to impress and achieve all the time, she was calmer and quite introvert. She didn't talk too much and she didn't have the infuriating female trait of wanting to discuss his feelings all the time. When they did talk, it was about interesting things, like Potions or Transfiguration, and she proved quite satisfactory - quite exceptional for a student actually. Also, she left him alone, left his past alone and -thank god- left his bloody emotions alone. If there was anything he truly hated, it was a simpering woman who tried to press declarations of love and confidences out of him. Those women he would seduce utterly and completely and then finish with them in the most crushing and humiliating way he could think of, taking great pleasure at seeing them cry at his feet.

He smirked to himself and then looked into the face before him. With one hand, he cupped her chin and tilted her head back, looking into the tired hazel eyes that slowly opened under his gaze. She smiled at him, an exhausted, quivering smile that was barely a tug at the corner of her mouth, but still powerful enough to make him smile back.

"I swear, Severus, one day I'll die from this," she whispered, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

"No man dies of love but on the stage, Miss Granger," he said, his smile a bit broader, "and I believe that goes for women too." He bent his head and kissed her softly, then picked her up and started moving towards the steps at the end of the pool, removing them both from the water at last.

"How long were we in there for?" she questioned, indicating the pool with her head as he placed her on the bathroom floor and handed her a fluffy white towel.

"Well, judging from the fact that the candles have all burnt down to no more than a small lump of wax, my guess would be about five hours, meaning that it would now be close to midnight," he answered with a little smirk, thinking back at the various activities that had kept them in the water's embrace.

"We missed dinner."

"Indeed. I trust you will be able to find a convincing excuse." She thought back on the row with Ron and the angry message charmed to her door and decided that that wouldn't be too hard.

"How about you? Will you be able to think of something that'll convince Professor Dumbledore?”

"No need, you see I sent him an owl before coming up here, explaining that I had other engagements for the evening." He saw the curiosity in her eyes and looked back, daring her to ask what kind of engagement he'd claimed for his excuse. To his astonishment, she just smiled and then walked out of the bathroom. He followed her, wrapping the towel around his waist.

He stopped in the doorway, watching her as she walked over to the bed, tucked down the sheets and settled herself between them, lying down on the fluffy pillows with a contented sigh. The white towel was tossed onto a chair a few feet away, and with a lazy wave of her wand, a big plate of food appeared on the bedside table. She put down her wand, picked up a book from the floor and placed the food plate next to her on the top sheet. She opened her book and picked up what looked like a slice of bread with tomatoes on it. He watched her bring it to her mouth and take a bite before looking up at him over the top of the book.

"Care to join me, Professor? This is quite good." She nodded in direction of the plate. He walked across the room and joined her under the covers, looking over the food plate, which on closer perusal was revealed to hold several types of exotic fruit as well as the non-British-looking bread. He had a vague memory of seeing something similar at a dinner at the Malfoys many years back, but could remember neither its name nor whether he'd liked it.

"It's Italian bruchetta, with tomatoes, aubergine and feta cheese," she said, supplying him with the information he needed. "I first had it when I was on vacation with my parents. It's really good, you should try."

He followed her lead and picked up a slice, finding it utterly delicious - though the experience might have been enhanced by the fact that he hadn't eaten since lunch and was positively starving. Picking up his own wand, he conjured a bottle of red wine and two goblets, filling them with the ruby liquid and handing one to her. She accepted it with a faint "thank you", apparently quite immersed in the book she was reading. Then she turned her head in his direction again.

"I have the newest issue of _Ars Alchemica_ if you're interested."

"Actually, that would be good." She summoned it easily from across the room and handed it to him.

They finished their food in silence, each immersed in the text they were reading. When the plate and the goblets were empty, Hermione put down her book, cast a Cleaning Charm to remove any crumbs from the sheets and extinguished the light with a flick of her wand. She was asleep within minutes, and oddly enough, so was the man lying next to her. And so the night passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering about the mystery of Hermione being Head Girl in her sixth year, there is a perfectly good explanation. During a Death Eater attack on the Three Broomsticks during the second Hogsmeade weekend in the Trio's sixth year (right before Christmas), some students were grievously injured, including the Head Boy and Girl who were trying to protect the younger students. Rather than to appoint two of the remaining seventh-year prefects to fill their places while they were at St Mungo’s, Dumbledore chose to install Harry and Hermione, giving Harry some authority and recognition, which he hopes will help him out of the detachment from the school and his friends that has affected him since Sirius's death. Hermione got to be Head Girl both to be able to support and be close to Harry and because she was already better qualified than any of the seventh-year students. (Also, Dumbledore had already planned to make them Head Boy and Girl the following year and figured that a little practice couldn’t hurt.) They both took up their new positions and moved into their personal quarters right after Christmas break. This story is set at the end of January.
> 
> (I wanted them to be in their sixth year for a bunch of different reasons, but I needed Hermione to have her own bedroom. Feel free to make up an alternative backstory to how that came to be if the above one doesn't convince you :-))
> 
> [This was written before JKR decided to change her mind and have Hermione be a year older than Harry and Ron. I'm not going to rewrite my story because of that (obviously), so in this fic, as well as in the sequel, Hermione's born in 1980, just like her friends.]


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 12 - Discoveries**

_Knock, knock, knock_

_"Hermione, are you in there?"_ The voice made Hermione groan and roll over on her back, starting to make her way off the bed and looking around for something to cover her body with.

"Now what?" she sighed, snatching up a bath robe from the floor and sitting up as she put it on.

"Another oh-so-sensitive Gryffindor in desperate demand of your attention, no doubt," Snape's voice came in sarcastic tones from the other side of the bed. She smiled and looked back at him.

"You should leave then." She leaned back down and placed a swift kiss on his mouth. "Will I see you during the day?"

"No."

"No?" She stroked him playfully across the chest, letting her hand move gradually lower.

"As I said last night, I have a little something in mind...planned for this evening actually..." He moved his own hand inside her bath robe and caressed a breast casually.

_”Hermione?!”_

"We'll finish this discussion later," she whispered as she gave his earlobe a last nibble and rolled off the bed.

***

"Hi Harry, what's up?" She remained in the doorway, wanting to keep her friend from coming into her chambers. Oddly enough, she got the feeling that Harry was doing the exact same thing.

"Hi..." He looked at her with a somewhat confused expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise... I thought you would have been up for hours - studying you know..." He took a step closer to her and tilted his head to the side, looking intently at her. "Are you alright? You look... I don't know... different somehow..." He raised a hand to move some curls out of her face.

The second his hand made contact with her face, she felt a surge of magic go through her. She could tell that he'd felt it too from the way he gasped and quickly withdrew his hand. He held it up between them, and they were equally shocked at the fact that a faint golden light shone around his long fingers.

"Hermione, what's going on?" he almost whispered, a tremor in his voice.

"I- I have no idea," she stuttered, eyes wide. Slowly, she raised her own hand and put her palm next to his, not quite daring to make contact.

"You feel that?"

"I feel like my own hand is pulling away from my body to get closer to yours."

"Exactly, just hold still for a while."

"Harry, I don't know if I can do that, I - oh!" She let out a gasp as the faint light that had surrounded his hand grew stronger and started to encircle hers as well. Harry's eyes showed great concentration as he slowly moved his hand half an inch closer to hers, then further away, then closer again. The light responded to his movements, growing stronger or weaker in proportion to the distance between their hands.

"Hermione, relax. Work the magic with me," he whispered as he moved his hand closer, finally making contact with her bare skin.

They both closed their eyes as the connection was activated. Streams of power surged through them, travelling from one to the other through the connected hands. Without realising what she was doing, Hermione raised her other hand and found that Harry had done the same. The magic changed direction and started following the circle created by their bodies, gathering speed as it went. It was like the power she'd felt when Harry had kissed her in the hospital wing, only this time, it was a thousand times stronger. She tilted her head back, giving in completely to the sensations as the power seemed to cleanse her, filling her with pure, blissful, shimmering light. She could feel her heart, a strong, confident beat that made the power pulsate in sync. A soft musical tune started to fill her ears, like the song of some magical bird, heard from afar.

"Hermione, open your eyes." Harry's voice seemed to come from inside her head.

She did and let out a soft gasp. The golden light had grown and was now covering both of them like a golden dome, and in the centre of the circle formed by their arms, a pillar of shimmering light was forming, growing more solid with every minute, sparkling in all the colours of the rainbow. She could see the wonder in Harry's eyes as the pillar grew taller, reaching now above their heads.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a different kind of surge go through her, like an icy wind, robbing her of her body's warmth. The pillar started to sway, destabilised and the light around her own body grew fainter, as did the sound and feel of her heart beating in her chest. An impulse of fear made her let go of Harry's hands and take a step back from him. The pillar immediately vanished and the golden light began to quickly fade.

For a long time, they just stared at each other in wonder, not noticing that someone else crossed the threshold from the bedroom and came to a halt behind a tall, potted plant...

***

Ron Weasley had spent most of the night thinking, sleep refusing to come to him. He'd knocked on Hermione's door for quite some time before giving up, figuring that she'd probably put a Silencing Charm on it to be left alone (that was the message after all - heck, she'd even spelled it out to him in red letters). Her absence at dinner was not too surprising either, considering her state of mind when they'd split up.

He'd gone over their row again and again in his mind and tried to analyse it, tried to find an explanation to why she'd reacted the way she had. In retrospect, he figured that he'd been a bit of a git, and that he'd said a couple of things that weren't perhaps the most sensitive things to say. He'd let his temper carry him away and he regretted it, cursing himself for lashing out at people he should have known she would want to protect - like Neville. Hermione had always been a sort of advocate for the weak, with the ridiculous SPEW as the most prominent example. She just couldn't take a step back and see things for what they were, that the world just wasn't perfect and that there was little you could do about it.

He still felt that, though he might have exaggerated a wee bit, he'd been essentially honest and spoken the truth. Alright, so perhaps he'd been a bit unfair to Neville, the bloke had made a lot of progress in the last year and he'd handled himself well at the botched rescue attempt at the Department of Mysteries the year before. Still, he wasn't that good-looking and he really couldn't see even Hermione, with her idealistic heart, actually dating him. Some Hufflepuff girl maybe, but not his Hermione. As for the things he'd said about McGonagall and Snape, he felt they were basically stating the obvious. Ok, so it hadn't been that nice, especially since he knew how much she looked up to her Transfiguration professor, but he just hadn't been able to help himself. He really didn't want Hermione to turn into that kind of stiff, strict and sexless woman. Sure, McGonagall was brilliant and a good teacher, but that was all she was. When would Hermione realise that there was more to life than books and, well, more books? He wanted her back as his girlfriend, and he wanted her to enjoy it when he touched her, instead of turning into ice in his arms...

One comment that had refused to leave him alone was when she'd said that she enjoyed kissing, just not with him. That had been a cruel blow and he'd spent hours mulling it over. He'd basically decided that it had just been something she'd said to hurt him, as he really couldn't see when she'd had a possibility to kiss someone else. Sure, he'd thought about Viktor Krum, but the idea of Hermione kissing the grouchy git and enjoying it was plain laughable. His mind had touched the possibility of Neville, but he'd suppressed it, because first of all, Neville wouldn't dare kiss a girl in the first place, and secondly, he was way too honourable to actually make a pass at another guy's girlfriend. A big blow had been dealt this conclusion during dinner, where he'd overheard some whispering rumours about Neville, Hermione and a broom closet, but after confronting Neville, who'd said that he'd just comforted Hermione because she was upset, he'd managed to put it out of his mind, in spite of Neville's reluctance to elaborate on the subject.

So, after a night of uneasy dreams, he'd decided that he needed to talk to Hermione, apologise for some of the things he'd said and get her back as his girlfriend. He'd make her see that she belonged with him and that their relationship would work out. He wanted to catch her before breakfast, and since the doors to her chambers were all locked and she might still be in an angry mood, he picked up his broom, opened the window and kicked off into the cold air.

He circled the tower, looking through windows in search of the Head Girl chambers. He managed to give some third-years quite a start as he peeped into their dormitory, but then found his way without problem. He rounded the tower and saw that Hermione's bedroom window was open. Good, that meant he wouldn't have to break down her wards, something he'd been worrying about as they were usually unbreakable. He landed smoothly on her window sill and jumped soundlessly to the floor.

Looking around the room, his first observation was that there was nobody there. Disappointed, he started to walk towards the living room, when something caught his eye. There was an empty bottle of wine and two goblets on the bedside table. He walked closer. _Two_ goblets? He looked more closely at the bed and saw that the sheets were rumpled and there was a soft indention in the mattress, not in the middle, but on _both_ sides. The pillows were equally bewildering, giving the distinct impression of _two_ people having slept on them... He noted a few strands of curly, brown hair on the one to the right - Hermione's hair. Walking over to the other side, he bent down and studied the second crumpled pillow closely. Black hair. Straight black hair. He straightened up and looked around the room again. Two goblets, two towels thrown on the floor, excessively rumpled sheets, black hair on one of the pillows...

 _"Harry,"_ he whispered to himself in horror and quickly stepped away from the bed.

***

He was still staring at the bed in shock when he heard a sound coming from the other room. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he quietly slid through the door and hid behind a tall, potted plant. Hermione and Harry were at the door, standing very close, apparently lost in each other's eyes. It made him want to puke. From his position behind the plant, he couldn't really make out their facial expressions, (not to mention that Hermione was standing with her back to him) but he could all too well hear the words that now broke the silence.

 _"Hermione, I really don't want to leave you like this, but I have to go."_ God, Harry really sounded awfully sorry, Ron thought bitterly.

 _"Do you really? Don't you think we should talk about this?"_ He could almost see her imploring eyes before him.

_"Oh, for sure, it's just... this is so overwhelming. I need a little bit of time to sort out all these new feelings, you know."_

_"They're not exactly new, are they? I mean, we felt it before... that night -"_

_"...in the hospital wing, yes I know."_ Ron watched in horror as Harry took yet another step closer and seemed to be stroking Hermione's hair gently before stepping back again. _"I never imagined that it would lead to this though..."_

 _"Me neither."_ Her voice was breathless. _"I knew there was something special about us ever since that kiss, but this..."_ Her voiced trailed off as she lifted a hand to softly caress his face. _"This is so much more, something I never could have foreseen..."_

 _"I know what you mean. I'm still half in shock actually... Who would have thought that you and I... it just seems so unlikely."_ Ron felt weaker with every passing minute, not knowing how much more he could take, but still incapable of moving away.

_"and still, it makes sense, in a weird way... It just feels so right..."_

_"It does. It was just so powerful, I felt that I lost all control but was still completely **in** control, you know... It doesn't make sense..."_

_"No, it doesn't, but I understand. I felt the same way."_

_"I didn't hurt you, did I?"_ Harry suddenly looked worried.  </i>"You feeling ok?"</i> Hermione's soft laughter struck Ron like a curse in the chest.

 _"Hurt me? Anything but! Harry, I feel wonderful."_ Ron couldn't see her smile, but saw the reaction on Harry's face and felt even worse. He needed to get out of there. Fast.

 _"In that case, perhaps we should explore this a bit more. Meet me later?"_ Ron was halfway out the door as he heard Harry say this and hastened his steps.

 _"Count on it,"_ were the last words he caught before crossing the bedroom, grabbing his broom and soaring out the window, flying away from the castle at breakneck speed.

He flew over lakes, forests and moors, not caring where his broom took him as long as it took him away from the horrible ache in his chest. After several hours, he landed on a small plateau, high up on a mountain side, similar to the one to which he'd taken Hermione, except this one was smaller and had a small cave instead of a frozen waterfall. He toppled off his broom and collapsed on the ground, not caring about the snow that wet his robes or the cold wind that made him shiver slightly. Curling up into a ball, he leaned against the cool cave wall and looked out at the gorgeous view that now seemed to have lost all its beauty.

Betrayed. The word kept going through his mind, eating away at his heart and soul. His best friend and his girlfriend, his two best friends since he started Hogwarts, the people he'd trusted more than anybody in the world. Betrayed. The horrible scene he'd witnessed replayed itself before his eyes, over and over until he thought he'd go mad. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw the bed before him, picturing them in it, making love on those rumpled sheets, feeding each other wine from the gleaming goblets... He broke into gulping sobs and hit his head against the stone until the pain in his head overcame the one in his chest. Sagging against the wall, he cried silently until the combined pain in his heart and head made him slip away into merciful blackness.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 13 - The Room of Requirement**

Hermione had a hard time concentrating during her Advanced Transfiguration class that morning. The mystery of the magical light she'd experienced with Harry refused to leave way for more practical thoughts, and she could tell that Professor McGonagall was less pleased with her than usual. For once, she longed for the class to end so that she could make her way to the library for some research. She had a distinct feeling that the pillar of light meant something important, but she couldn't remember having ever read about anything similar happening... or had she? She strained her mind, searching her memory. Harry's hand brushed lightly against hers under the desk, making it tingle pleasantly.

"I'm not getting anywhere either." His voice wasn't especially low and she quickly glanced up at McGonagall, who usually was very strict about talking in her class. She didn't seem to have noticed. Harry met her eyes.

"Pretty cool, isn't it?" He wasn't moving his lips, and her eyes widened as she realised that his voice had been coming from inside her own head.

"How do you do that?" She quickly looked back to her parchment as McGonagall turned her head towards them.

"Through the connection, I think." He linked his index finger to hers in a little hook. "Let's see..." He let go of her hand, then looked at her expectantly. She shook her head slightly and he took her finger again.

"Only through physical contact then," he confirmed in her head. A frightening thought suddenly hit her.

"Harry, can you read my mind even when I'm not, well, 'talking' to you?" She felt tense, waiting for his answer.

"Well, kind of. I mean, I could follow your thoughts when you were going through all those books, but most is pretty hazy... There's something you don't wish me to see, something important to you... I can feel your resistance..." His voice in her head stopped abruptly as she pulled her hand away from his.

The rest of the class passed in silence.

***

Hermione spent the lunch break in the library, looking through numerous volumes on light, mental connections, pillars and anything she could think of. Nothing. On her way to Care of Magical Creatures, she felt a bit depressed and wondered if she would ever find anything. If there was anything in the library, it was bound to be in the restricted section, and since Lockhart was no longer a member of the staff, the chance of her getting in there was pretty slim. And just where was Harry, by the way? Shouldn't he have been helping her with the research?

Just then, Harry came into view, walking with hurried steps towards her, eyes shining from excitement or apprehension, she couldn't quite tell. They met and he ushered her to follow him.

"But Harry, what about class?" she asked, as he grabbed her robes and almost dragged her with him towards the castle.

"Don't worry, I had a quick word with Hagrid, and they're just continuing last week's lesson. I'm sure Ron can fill us in later. This is more important." He was almost running now, taking her up flight after flight of stairs.

"Harry, wait, where are we going?" she panted, having a hard time keeping up with his sprint up the stairs.

"Room of Requirement," was his short answer and she felt like a light had been turned on over her head. Of course. They wouldn't find what they needed in the library, so what could then be better than to look in the room which would solve the problem for them?

When they reached the seventh floor corridor, Harry took her hand and she felt the now familiar jolt of power surge through her. They walked passed the hidden entrance three times, concentrating fully on their connection and their need to find out what it meant. After the third turn, they opened their eyes, which widened in wonder at the graceful, golden portal that had opened in the wall. Without hesitation, they walked inside.

***

The room was very different now from the room they'd grown used to during the DA meetings. It was smaller, for one thing, and circular. The ceiling was very high, and tall, many-paned painted windows followed the circular form, between which pink roses climbed on the white walls. The floor was marble, gleaming softly in the multi-coloured light from the windows, and soft, silk pillows lay invitingly in little heaps along the wall.

In the centre of the room was a raised platform, on which four pillars formed the base of a square table. On the table, resting in a soft, golden light, which seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, was a thick, leather-bound book.

They walked towards it, not speaking, raising a hand at the exact same time. They could feel each other's hesitations, hear the warnings in the other's head. Still, they continued, both feeling drawn to the book, noting how the golden light that shone around their hands grew stronger as they drew closer, the book calling out to something unknown, deep inside them. They both felt something when they reached out to touch the deep-red leather, tracing the golden letters with trembling fingers as they made out the title:

_MAGICA ARS LUCIS ANIMO_

In unspoken agreement, they opened the book and watched, in astonishment, how the pages flipped of their own accord, until they stopped and the book lay still. They started to read, transfixed, leaning closer to each other and feeling how the text in the book seemed to flow into them with the light.

"Lux Cognitionis," Hermione whispered, almost in awe.

"The Light of Knowledge," Harry echoed, stepping closer and putting his arm around her waist.

They stood like that for a long time, letting the knowledge of the book enter into their memories. When the book closed, Hermione tried to open it again, to read the sections they hadn't yet seen, and gasped - the pages were blank.

"Come," Harry was tugging at her hand, indicating the pile of pillows over at the wall, "we need to talk."

She nodded in mute consent and let him lead her over to the mass of silk.

"Are you hungry?" A low silver table appeared and filled itself with food at the words. She shook her head, still too shocked to speak.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you this way," Harry chuckled softly, helping himself to some gooey chocolate cake. She finally found her voice.

"Well, you must agree it comes as something of a shock," she said, looking up at him. "Harry, this is very serious." The smile died on his face.

"I know. I don't know how to feel about this. I'd accepted that it would all come down to me, you know? I guess I'd pictured some sort of duel in my head, only Voldemort and I in some kind of deserted place, with all the people I love safe and out of the way..." He broke off, looking away from her.

"It might still be that way, Harry. We don't know how the fight is going to end, only that this has a part to play in it." She put her hand into his hair and turned his head back towards her. "To tell you the truth, I'm glad about this. I'm glad to know that I'll be by your side then..." She smiled weakly, trying to hide the fear that was rising inside her.

"Yeah," he hugged her shoulders gently, "Yeah, I'm glad you'll be there too. You and Ron."

"Ron?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. He looked back at her, quizzically.

"Well yeah, I just assumed..." He broke off at her pained expression. "What? You mean he won’t-"

"No Harry, I don't think he will. I'd want him to be, I really would, but somehow, I don't think the magic means for it to work out that way." She had tears in her eyes now. "God, this is all so confusing! The book is a giant riddle, and yet I have this feeling, like I understand exactly what it means, without being able to explain it..."

"Ok, hang on, let's take this from the beginning." He looked at her with a serious look in his eyes. "Why don't you summarise what this magical ritual is all about, it spins my head to think about it."

She nodded, grateful that he would give her some time, and feeling more comfortable now that she got to put her mind to work. She drew a deep breath and began her recital.

"Well, from what I understand, the phenomenon is called the _Pila Lucis_ (Pillar of Light) and is part of an ancient magical branch of Light and Heart Magic. The Pillar creates a strong, magical light which overcomes all darkness, though the details about just how it defeats said darkness - which I hope means Voldemort in our case by the way - are unclear. The Pillar can only be conjured under very specific circumstances, with the connection of the Two, the Four and the Three, and-"

"Yeah, stop for a second there." What did all those numbers mean? I guess you and I would be the Two, but who are the Three and the Four?" Hermione looked at him, her eyes puzzled.

"I don't know exactly. Let's see... what did the text say...?" She closed her eyes and repeated some verses from the book, which seemed to have etched itself permanently to their memories.

_"When One and One, of Heart and Mind,_  
Unite in true, unselfish love,  
They form a bond, a golden glove,  
A Light which always they shall find. 

_When Two connect, the Light will bring,_  
Strength and hope and quell all fear,  
But not until all Four are near,  
Shall Love and Essence truly sing. 

_For One shall need its Other,_  
In Essence and Nature alike,  
Two and Two'll fulfil the bargain,  
Which Two alone could never strike. 

_The Elements will come together,_  
The double circle shall be complete,  
The outer bonds'll provide the fuel,  
For Mind and Heart to fully meet. 

_The Three, provided by the Four,_  
And channelled through the central Two,  
Three couples, two pairs, a unity will conjure,  
The Light that'll shine forever more." 

They both sat quiet for a while, pondering these words. Then Hermione got the familiar "I-think-I'm-on-to-something!"-gleam in her eyes, reached for a quill and some parchment in her bag and started scribbling frantically. Harry helped himself to some more cake, watching her. She was the best on this sort of thing and he had no doubts that she would solve the riddle.

Some time and a few caramel snaps later, she looked up, a mixed expression in her eyes.

"Harry, I think I've figured it out, at least some of it..."

"So tell." He leaned forwards, expectantly.

"Well, the 'One and One of Heart and Mind' is probably referring to you and me - you being the heart and I being the mind. The 'golden glove' is the light that appears every time our hands connect, and the 'light' I think refers to both the physical light that appears around us and the emotional light we feel when we're, well, close." She blushed a little.

"Ok, that makes sense. I got that one too. What about the second part though? It sounds like the magic should be different if we're alone or with these two other people, but..."

"I think that's true," she interrupted. "In the hospital wing, we were alone and then we only felt - or at least I did - a sort of emotional connection, like good, cleansing energy going through us. There was no light, not visible at least, right?"

"To tell you the truth, I couldn't give you a certain answer. I was so thrown by the whole experience I doubt that I would have noticed if Hagrid had pirouetted through the room wearing a tutu." She smiled at this. "But you're probably right. There wasn't any light today in Transfiguration either. McGonagall would have noticed."

"There was when we walked up to the book though..."

"Could have been caused by the book itself and the closeness to its magic though, right?"

"Yes, probably..." She was biting her lip in concentration, trying to put two and two together. Then suddenly:

"Harry, was Ginny with you in your chambers this morning?" She watched as her friend went red and looked down, avoiding her eyes.

"Yes... she came down last night and said that we needed to talk, and - well - we talked... and stuff..." Hermione couldn't help letting out a giggle.

"And stuff? Harry, I don't blame you. Ginny can be rather persistent when she decides she wants something. I'm happy for you." She smiled at him and he smiled back.

"'Love and Essence truly sing'... Harry, this morning, did you hear some strange music, like a bird singing?"

"Yeah, Phoenix song. It was very strong."

"See, for me it was quite weak, and the main thing I heard was my heart beating."

"Seems like we had some sort of mirror experience. Hey, if I'm 'the Heart' shouldn't it have been I who heard the heartbeat stronger than the song?"

"I don't know... you've always been connected to the phoenix, it's a part of you... it's-" She broke off and just looked at him. "Harry, your wand, it's a phoenix feather, right?"

"Yes, same as Voldemort’s."

"So is Ginny's! Not from the same phoenix, but still. Harry, my wand is dragon _heartstring_! It all fits! The 'essence' is referring to the wands we carry, which is an indication of our magical essence. Then 'nature' must be the 'mind and heart'-thing, Ginny is definitely a 'heart' too... so she's your 'Other', same in nature and essence!"

Harry looked like he'd say something, but she kept going, excited that the pieces were falling into place.

"So, you and me are the 'One' and the 'One', the 'Mind and Heart' making the 'Two'. Ginny is your 'Other', and together with my 'Other', we make the 'Four'. When the 'Two', i.e. you and me are physically connected and the other two are near, we can activate the magic and create the pillar of light. Harry! It all makes sense! This morning, when the pillar lost its balance, I felt as though part of my power was leaving me. That must have been when he left through the Floo! The 'fuel', the 'fuel' is _desire_ , that's what the 'Others' bring to the bond - desire! The 'Three' is the ancient combination of Mind, Heart and Body, or Mind, Courage and Desire, which makes a system complete! It's-"

"Whoa! Hermione! Slow down a bit. You're rambling!" Harry grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake. "Slowly please. Ok, so first of all, if Ginny is my Other, then who's yours? I thought you and Ron were dating?" He looked at her, a guarded gleam in his eyes. She felt very uncomfortable.

"We're not. We only went on that one date and it didn't go too well..." She lowered her eyes. "And then we had a horrible row yesterday afternoon. It's all over."

"Hey, look at me. What happened? I thought you were crazy about him?" He tilted her chin up. "Did he do something stupid?"

"No, not really. I guess I just realised that I was more in love with the thought of being in love than I was in love with _him_ , you know? When he kissed me, it just didn't feel right... I don't know. I really wanted it to work, but it just wouldn't!" She felt tears of frustration rising to her eyes and Harry's hand, patting her back reassuringly. "I guess I always figured that love would work out the way I wanted it too, that I could control it if I tried hard enough. Boy, was I wrong about that!" She gave a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Harry pulled her closer.

"So who is it then? It can't be Neville either, he's got unicorn hair in his wand, just like Ron. The only other person I know with a dragon heartstring wand is Viktor Krum... it's not him, is it?" he exclaimed in a shocked voice.

"No Harry, it's not Viktor. He's in Bulgaria playing Quidditch as far as I know, I haven't heard from him in months." She thought about her former, well, she guessed she could call him "boyfriend", and something suddenly struck her - a likeness to someone else, his face melting into the similar features of another face... God! How could she have failed to see it back then? She laughed a little, realising how far back her attraction to the Potions Master actually went. Then she made her decision: Harry had to know, this wasn't just about them anymore, she couldn't hide Snape's identity from him, not when something this important was at stake...

"You know, Harry, your guess isn't that bad," she said, looking him deep in the eyes. He looked completely bewildered by this comment and she just couldn't bear telling him outright. Instead, she took his hand in hers, closed her eyes and opened her mind for him to read. Tears ran down her cheeks as she wordlessly guided him through the last week's events, holding nothing back.

When she reached the memory of the pool, he pulled his hand away and her eyes flew open as he sprang to his feet, backing away a little. He looked a little sick.

"Harry, please understand," she pleaded "Please don't hate me!"

"Hate you? How could I hate you, Hermione? You’re my best friend!"

"So what's-"

"I hate _him_!" he shouted, "I didn't think it could get any worse, but this! This! He's using you, Hermione! _Using_ you! He's your teacher! You're sixteen years old! He should go to Azkaban for this! It's disgusting!" He looked like he was about to gag.

She too stood up, approaching him, trying to calm him down but he pulled away.

"Don't! I don't want to see anymore! I could forgive you for using the potion you know, and the mess it created with Ron and me, oh, and I guess Neville too, eh? But this is just too much! You've been sleeping with Snape! And still you went around pretending to be Ron's girlfriend! What was he to you? A safety net? Planning to have a nice bloke as your respectable boyfriend by day and your filthy, randy, breaking-the-law lover by night? How could you possibly ask me to understand this?!!!" His voice was getting hoarse from screaming and Hermione felt tears streaming down her face.

"Harry, I didn't want this to happen, believe me, I didn't! I didn't plan any of this! Things just got out of hand so fast..."

"Yeah, I could see that! Christ, Hermione! How can you stand being near him? He practically raped you on that desk!"

"Oh really? Well, last time I checked, one of the parties has to be actually unwilling for it to count as rape! So unless _he_ was the one getting violated, it wasn't even close! I _wanted_ him Harry! I didn't know it until he came down on top of me, but believe me when I say that I've never wanted anything as intensely as I wanted him right then!"

A tense silence filled the room at her last words, and they both stood perfectly still, a few feet apart, eyeing each other warily.

"When I came back from my date with Ron, I'd decided to end things with Snape." Her voice was low now, almost a whisper. "I'd made the decision because it was the right thing to do, the better choice, or so I thought. I thought I could make myself love Ron the way he deserves to be loved, the way any nice guy deserves to be loved. Then I realised that I couldn't get out of the thing with Snape, not until the week had passed - I showed you why - and I decided that I'd start again with Ron when the whole mess was over and done with. I really wanted to be honest and do the right thing. Sneaking around like this has been killing me."

"So why did you break up with Ron? The potion loses its effect tomorrow." He too had stopped shouting and she could see how he did his best to control his anger.

"Because I realised that it was the right thing to do. It wouldn't be fair of me to start dating Ron, Harry, not when I'm in love with - somebody else..."

Harry looked like he'd been hit by a Bludger.

"You _love_ him?!" He looked absolutely incredulous. "You mean this isn't just some sick, kinky, sex-thing? You actually love the man?"

"Yes, I do." She held her head high. "And I won't apologise for it, either. I know that it's wrong on so many levels but I can't help it. I really do love him."

"How? The only people I know that are more unpleasant are the two Malfoys and Voldemort, and at least the Malfoys are somewhat attractive..." Hermione sighed.

"I don't know. There's just something in me that connects. I feel close to him, closer than I've ever felt to anyone, and we don't even know each other very well. He makes me feel... alive, like I have something other than a brain to bring to the party-"

"Like your body? How _nice_ of him to pay attention to it," Harry interrupted, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Well, nobody else seems to notice," she responded icily. "And for your information, it's not just about sex, at least not for me, even though he's good enough in bed to make _me_ \- Hermione Granger, Hogwarts' bookworm extraordinaire - want to skive off lessons so that I could stay in bed with him _all day_." She smiled at his shocked expression. "You know, when he touches me, I-"

"I don't want to know! It's Snape! It's sick! I _really_ don't want to know! Please, shut up!"

"Ok, I will - if you stop screaming at me. There's nothing you can do to change the fact that I love him and considering what we've just discovered in that book, I think you should take a moment to consider that this thing, relationship, affair - whatever you want to call it - between me and Snape might be what gives you enough force to destroy Voldemort in the end. Consider that for a second and calm down." She went back to the stack of pillows and sat down, picking up a handful of grapes and eating them slowly, only then realising how hungry she was.

"Hermione, you're right. I'm sorry that I yelled at you." She could hear, quite plainly, that his heart wasn’t in the apology. Harry sank down beside her and she tried to smile.

"Don't worry about it. I guess it's rather shocking news." He laughed at that, a bitter, stale laugh that clearly said that he wasn’t anywhere closer to accept her and Snape than he’d been a minute ago.

"To say the least. Alright, so let's get back to the book and the magic,” he said, clearly wanting to change the subject. His face was still very pale and his jaw was tightly clenched. She sighed and reached for her parchment and quill. “What about the 'The Elements shall come together'-bit?"

"Well, since it's ancient magic, it makes sense for it to be tied to the four elements,” she said carefully, not wanting him to lose his temper again. “I'd guess we each represent one. Snape's probably wind, because I felt a cool wind go through me when he left and the pillar lost its balance, and he is really hard to get a grip on, very slippery and quite inconsistent, I think. Logically, I should be water, because water goes with wind and I keep a cool head more often than both you and Ginny." She smiled at him. "So that would leave Fire and Earth for the two of you. What do you think?"

"Well, I think Ginny is the fierier of us... hang on! Isn't Earth usually pictured as feminine?"

"It is."

"Well, maybe you should be Earth then, calm and fertile and safe and all that. I could be water, I'm pretty cool, and deep, and oh, I can be stormy sometimes!" She could tell he was desperately trying to make jokes to pull them away from more dangerous thoughts. His laugh was rather hollow.

”Harry, this isn't pick and choose!" she tried to laugh. "Oh well, I don't think that's too important, we can think more about it later."

"Alright, so how about the last part?"

"Well, that's basic Arithmancy really. You should have taken that class, it's really interesting. The 'Three' are the Mind, Heart and Desire, the Four are the pillars of the spell - the four of us and the four elements-, the 'central Two' are you and me, the 'three couples' are me and Snape, me and you and you and Ginny. The two pairs are the two pairs of lovers, i.e. me and Snape and you and Ginny and the unity is the double circle we're supposed to create to conjure the true light. It's all maths – ‘four’ is the number of the world, of stability, ‘three’ is the number of complete and perfect unity of entities, ‘two’ is the couple and/or the contrast, and ‘one’ is unity. Here, all numbers are turned into each other, fusing the values together and increasing the magic. The 'Four' are at once four, three, two and one, and it's the same for all numbers. It's really powerful."

"Ok, if you say so," Harry said, slightly confused. "But Hermione, what are we going to do with this knowledge? It's absolutely vital that Voldemort doesn't get his hands on it. And those chances aren't too good, seeing as he can break into my mind, he's already broken into Ginny's once, and Snape is one of his Death Eaters!"

"Dumbledore trusts him, Harry. And I do too," she inserted, her voice low. "And even Lupin said that he's a fantastic Occlumens, he should be alright."

"It wasn’t his safety I was worried about. I still don't trust him. Who knows what he would do with this type of information!"

"I don't know. Harry, we must tell Dumbledore. He must know this and he might be able to give us some advice."

Harry stiffened. "Are you sure you want that? What about his reaction to the very unethical teacher-student relationship? Snape could be fired. You could be expelled." He couldn’t quite conceal the happy tone that crept into his voice at the words “Snape” and “fired”.

"He wouldn't be able to do that while Voldemort was still a threat. Dumbledore wouldn't let his personal feelings lead him to a decision that might mean your death and the loss of the war. He's not stupid."

"You're probably right," he said with a sigh, getting to his feet. "Let's go straight away and we'll catch him before the end of classes."

He reached out a hand to pull her up and they left the room, heading towards Dumbledore's office, a tense look on both their faces.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 14 - In Dumbledore's Office**

For a few seconds, Harry and Hermione stood in silence before the stone gargoyles that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. They knew that they had to tell him everything - Sirius's death had shown them how bad keeping information secret during a war could be - but they still feared to do so. Hermione was, despite her trying to convince herself otherwise, worried about Dumbledore's reaction to her affair with Professor Snape. It was, after all, highly unethical and very much against school rules. She looked up at Harry.

"What if we were to tell him what we found out without mentioning any names?" she asked, looking at him pleadingly.

"I don't think that would work, Hermione," he answered with a sigh "This is too important, and even though the whole idea of you and Snape just makes me want to barf, your _relationship,_ ” he winced, “is too important to keep a secret, at least from Dumbledore."

She knew he was right, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach she watched him turn his head towards the gargoyle and give the password. The two statues immediately jumped aside and a spiral staircase descended. They stepped in and it started to move again, taking them with it up to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore called his "please, come in" before they'd even knocked. It was a little creepy to say the least. With nervous steps, they walked inside, taking a seat in two comfy, chintz armchairs that appeared out of thin air as they approached the old wizard. Dumbledore was sitting in his usual chair behind his desk, with many different rolls of parchment scattered around him. Fawkes, the phoenix, was sleeping on his perch close to the window.

"Harry, Hermione, good afternoon," he said warmly. "How can I be of assistance to you?"

"Well," Harry started, "we've discovered something. Something that we think could be important to the war, and we felt we needed to tell you about it, sir."

"Go on." Dumbledore's expression had become more serious.

"Well, I don't know where to start, really..." Harry said uncertainly, looking at Hermione for help. "It's all rather complicated..." Hermione nodded to him and took over.

"This morning, before we went down to breakfast, Harry called me over because he said he needed to ask me something, and when our hands came into contact, well..." she said, and then proceeded to telling the Headmaster everything that had happened that morning and what they'd found out in the Room of Requirement. She didn't mention either Ginny or Snape though, and Harry gave her a weird look. The headmaster listened to her tale with great interest and a solemn look on his face, and sat silent for a while after she'd finished.

After a couple of minutes, Dumbledore stood up and started pacing behind his desk. He muttered to himself and threw an occasional glance at Harry and Hermione. He then sat back down and asked Hermione to repeat the text in the book, nodding his head and processing every word. Finally, he spoke:

"This is exceptional. I must confess myself to be quite surprised. It seems that you have found one of the last pieces to the Trelawney prophecy, pinning down exactly what kind of ancient magic is referred to as the 'power the Dark Lord knows not'." He looked at their rather puzzled faces before continuing, "You remember, Harry, what I said to you last spring, when I outlined the prophecy for you. I've suspected, ever since you're mother's sacrifice, that Love was the ancient power, which you have in abundance and which Voldemort doesn't have at all. Your escapades during your first five years here at Hogwarts confirmed this theory, but I was still unsure what form this magic would eventually take with regards to the prophecy." He leaned back in his chair and seemed lost in thought for a couple of minutes, before looking back at them.

"You see, there are several different branches of what is usually known as 'Heart magic' or 'Ancient magic' and most are not very well known, with the possible exception of certain branches of Blood magic. I've been rather sure, for many years now, that some part of this obscure magical branch would be a central part of the last confrontation between you, Harry, and Voldemort, where the prophecy will be fulfilled." A glimmer of sadness came into his eyes and Hermione saw that Harry was looking into his lap, not facing the old man.

"Today, you have solved at least part of that mystery. The _Pila Lucis_ is very powerful and extremely rare. I don't think anyone has conjured it for centuries, maybe even longer. The many requirements make sure that the opportunity to use this spell doesn't present itself very often, and very few people even know about its existence. The light it conjures can be stored in a vessel, which is usually one of the two central characters. In this case, the vessel is _you,_ Harry. You will add this ancient power to that which you already carry and it will be your weapon against Voldemort. Your wands are brothers and he already carries some of the magic from Lily's sacrifice through the ritual where he stole your blood. If you can manage to channel this new power, this light, and get it through to him, I think you might be victorious." He leaned closer to the young boy and made him raise his head. "Harry, this is good news."

Harry looked up and gave a weak smile. He didn't dare get too enthusiastic - Dumbledore had warned him, again and again, not to become too sure of himself, not to let his guard down. Still, this gave him more hope than he'd felt in months. He grinned at Hermione and then relaxed a little, leaning back into a more comfortable position in the chair.

"So, how do I channel this magic, and when should we do the ritual to make me the vessel?" he asked, a little excited now. The thought of this long nightmare ending, of finally getting rid of Voldemort and maybe getting the chance to live a normal life, without the prophecy hanging over his head, was very tempting.

"The power is strongest right after the pillar is conjured and then fades over time. Once there, it will never completely leave you, but it will grow faint, leaving the sort of lingering protection your mother gave you. Full power only lasts for about an hour, so it's vital that the ritual be performed as close to the fight as possible. You and I will talk more about methods for channelling this magic at your Occlumency lessons, but right now, I need you to answer some questions." He looked from Harry to Hermione with seriousness in his blue eyes, and they eyed each other nervously. Hermione swallowed hard _"Here it comes,"_ she thought, trembling.

"When was the connection between the two of you activated?" His voice was kind as he eyed them intently. Harry cleared his throat.

"Last Thursday, pretty late in the evening," he said. "I was up in the hospital wing, visiting Hermione, and, er, I was really upset, I thought she was dead for a second that afternoon when her cauldron exploded, and it just triggered something in me... I don't know... I just felt like some part of me had died and when she opened her eyes... it was like a light was turned on and my heart healed in a second. I've never felt so relieved and I just- I just needed to feel that she was really there, I guess... So- so I- I kissed her," he finished, looking down into his lap and blushing a bit.

Dumbledore smiled and looked over at Hermione, asking her if there had been any visible light at that time. She said she didn't think so, but wasn't entirely sure.

"I'm sorry to ask you these things as they affect your personal lives, which I really have nothing to do with. But this is important. You see, the visible light cannot be conjured between the Two until their respective relationships with the _remaining_ two have been,” he cleared his throat, “well… consummated. Once that has happened, the Two can create a soft, golden light, even when the other two aren't close by, which can serve as a shield against smaller curses. Since you have already half-conjured the Pillar, I assume that you both have found your Other and that your relationships with these persons have been consummated. Am I correct?"

Both Harry and Hermione blushed profusely as they nodded their heads.

"Professor," Hermione asked, trying to delay the question she knew must come. "Today in Transfiguration, Harry touched my hand but no light was created. Instead, we were able to communicate telepathically and he could read some of my thoughts. What happened there?"

"Hmm, well, as I said, when you and Harry are away from the Others, you _can_ create some light on your own. You don't have to however, and you will learn to control this power, even when all Four are together. The connection is always there, though, and you'll find other ways to use it, like telepathic communication. I believe Harry is currently more skilled at reading your mind and communicating with you as he's had lessons in Occlumency and Legilimency. You'll soon learn to control that connection as well."

"Speaking of which," he continued, reaching for some parchment and a quill. "It's of the greatest importance that all four of you start studying Occlumency as soon as possible. This is a very, very dangerous secret and if Voldemort found out, he'd try to kill at least one of you and destroy the chance of the Pillar being used against him. Harry is already taking lessons with me, but I need to plan lessons for the other three as well. So, Harry, who is your Other?" He looked at him expectantly.

"Ginny Weasley." Dumbledore couldn't hide his smile and looked up at Harry with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Indeed? Well, why don't you bring Miss Weasley along to your lessons then? Since she's already been possessed by Voldemort, she'll need intensive training, but I'm sure she'll learn rapidly." He smiled as he scribbled down a note to Professor McGonagall, informing her of Ginny Weasley's new evening activities. He sealed the scroll and then turned to Hermione, who felt her insides turn to ice. _"Here it comes,"_ she thought again.

"Hermione, I think we'll do the same with you and your young man, letting you take lessons at the same time. I would want to ask you a question though - I'm rather busy at the moment and I have very little time in which to put your lessons. I know it didn't work out too well with Harry, but I would ask you to consider taking lessons from Professor Snape instead of me. He's really a fantastic Occlumens, better than me to be entirely truthful, and the two of you don't seem to harbour too much animosity towards each other." She couldn't meet his eyes and fixed hers on the buttons of her robes. Harry squirmed a bit in the chair next to hers and she could almost feel the tension in the air.

"Unless of course, your boyfriend couldn't bear it. I know Professor Snape isn't a very popular teacher - much of his own doing, I'm afraid - but he is very competent. I would have thought that your Other would share your practical mind...?" He eyed her curiously. "Is there another reason to why the two of you wouldn't be able to learn Occlumency from Professor Snape?" he asked gently. Hermione braced herself, the moment of truth was upon her.

"Yes, professor" she said, a tremor to her voice. "I wouldn't mind, but for my... _boyfriend…_ ” She almost choked on the word and felt Harry shudder next to her. “... for him, it would not be possible to take lessons from Professor Snape..." She swallowed hard, willing herself to continue, finding that she couldn't...

"Why, my dear?" Dumbledore's voice was friendly, coaxing. She took a deep breath.

"Because my Other _is_ Professor Snape."

***

Shocked silence filled the room. Hermione had never seen the Headmaster look so at loss for what to say or do. He looked at her in complete astonishment, then turned to Harry, who gave a small nod, an angry expression on his face. In just a few seconds, however, Dumbledore managed to collect himself and turned towards her, a now very worried expression on his face.

"Please tell me how this came about, Hermione, this is most serious." His voice was gentle but firm, telling her he wouldn't take kindly to being disobeyed.

"Well, it started with a potion..." She felt tears rise in her eyes as she told the story of the potion that was supposed to make Ron discover his feelings for her, but which proved to have other, unexpected effects. She told him about her first detention, how she and Snape had ended up magically bound to one another and the subsequent week they'd spent together. She left out the details of their meetings but stressed the fact that he had never forced her. She confessed her own feelings and the fact that she didn't know anything about his. She also told him about their agreement to stop seeing each other once the potion wore off and how much she dreaded that moment.

 _She didn't want it to end_ \- the realisation hit her hard and she felt a sharp pain go through her. There were only about 16 hours left! What if he wanted to end their thing after that? What was she doing in this chair? She should be taking advantage of every moment! She started getting to her feet but was interrupted by Dumbledore's unusually sharp voice.

"Sit down, Hermione. You need to remain here until this matter is settled." She did so and he looked at her with those intense, blue eyes, which now were far from gentle or twinkling.

"Hermione, I need you to understand that what you have done, and what Professor Snape has done, is very serious in the eyes of this school and in the eyes of Wizard Law. You are still underage. He is your professor. Under normal circumstances, you would both face an enquiry in front of the Board of Governors at the very least. Severus would most likely be fired and you would risk expulsion. Had there been any force involved or had he brewed that potion instead of you, he would be facing a probable sentence in Azkaban." His voice took on a more gentle tone, "The fact that you love him, or that you were under the influence of a potion, doesn't change this. Hogwarts' rules clearly state that a member of staff is not allowed to be romantically involved with any of the students. Under normal circumstances, you would both be in a very difficult situation."

Hermione looked up at her headmaster in fear. She wanted to speak, wanted to beg him not to expel her, but her voice seemed to have died. Tears streamed quietly down her cheeks as he looked into his eyes.

"There, there, don't cry." Dumbledore reached into a drawer and pulled out a blue, linen handkerchief and gave it to her. "I understand that this must be very distressing for you. You're not the first student I've had in here who's had a crush on one of her teachers. You are the first, during my time as Headmaster, to actually have an ongoing relationship with one, however. The members of staff here know the rules well and this one is one they actually follow." He smiled sadly. "I must stress the seriousness of this situation and tell you what it normally would lead to. The situation we're all in right now though, with Voldemort rising to power a second time, changes things. These are not normal circumstances and therefore, normal plans of action don't apply."

He let his words sink in for a minute. The silence in the office was absolute, even the portraits were listening with tense expressions on their faces.

"As things stand, I cannot allow either you or Severus to leave this castle. Firing Severus would be the same as killing him, since Voldemort would then have no further use of him, and would most likely get rid of him, or cripple him as punishment. Neither can I expel you, Hermione, since you would be kidnapped and possibly killed within a month by Death Eaters wanting to use you as bait to get to Harry. And frankly, it would be a terrible waste to lose two of Hogwarts' sharpest minds." Hermione managed a little smile at the indirect compliment, but it faded as he continued, "Then we have the added complication of the connection you two just discovered. The magic is dependent on the feelings of the Four. If one is lost, the whole pillar crumbles, and for Harry's sake, and that of the whole wizarding world, we cannot allow that to happen. This might be the only way to fulfil the prophecy to Harry's advantage, and I could never live with myself, knowing that I've doomed the world to a rule of darkness just because I denied - albeit with very good reason - two lovers to be together." He sat quiet for another couple of minutes, looking mostly at Harry, as if trying to make him understand these arguments. No words were spoken, but Hermione had a feeling the two were still talking - she could see Harry's face change, different feelings passing over it. Finally, Dumbledore turned back to her.

"Don't misunderstand me, Hermione, were you a few years older and had left school, I would be happy to hear about your feelings for Professor Snape. - Yes, Harry, happy," he added sharply as Harry made a disgusted grunt. "Severus is a man who's been sorely abused by life, to the point where he barely trusts anyone and figures that the best way not to be hurt by people is to never let anyone come near him. He's surly and unpleasant because it suits him to be so, and his pleasures in life come mainly from pride in his professional achievements and perverse joy in making other people miserable. He's by no means an easy man to be around, but he is, essentially, a good man and he deserves a better life than the one he leads at present. You two are much alike, and your first year at Hogwarts, you reminded me immensely of what he was like as a student. Your friendships, especially the one to Harry and Ron, I would think, have changed you, made you softer, more social, and - most importantly - an essentially happy person. Severus’s friends, when he had any, did not have the same effect on him - quite the opposite, to be frank. You already know that you have much in common, as the connection in the Pillar illustrates. You're of the same nature and the same essence, and I think you would actually make each other very happy. Were you but four-five years older, the age difference wouldn't be much of an issue, since wizards normally live to around 160-180 at least. Severus is still a relatively young man by wizarding standards. He's not a boy, but nor are you a little girl. You've often stricken me as being quite a bit older than you actually are, which is the main reason to why I let you start Hogwarts a year before you were actually due. Intellectually, you're much ahead of the people your age, and I can see why Severus would interest you. The fact still remains that you are appallingly young to be in the kind of relationship that you are, however. Emotionally, I think you're still a sixteen-year-old girl, and you could be very hurt in this. Legally, you're still underage, and the power he has over you through his position as your professor is very negative. You might be perfect for each other, as the ancient magic indicates, but this is not a time to initiate that relationship. You are too young. He is your professor. It's unethical, not to mention illegal."

He broke off, eyeing her intently. She still had tears in her eyes and looked quite miserable. He could see the understanding and the resignation, mixed with fear that Severus would lose interest in her if their relationship was put on hold for several years. All these emotions confirmed the picture he had of her - a girl who was very grown up and very young at the same time.

"So, do you mean that I'll have to stop seeing him, professor?" The fear in her eyes was heartbreaking.

"To be frank with you, my dear, I don't know." Dumbledore said with a sigh. "Your connection is essential to the magic of the Four and I don't know if it would be wise for me to forbid you to see each other. I would prefer this to end, but I'm not sure it would be a good decision to make, considering..." He left his chair and began pacing again, thinking hard.

"I'll give you my decision in the morning and I will talk to Severus right after his classes end today. Since this is the last day of your potion's life span, I assume that the two of you will have plans of some sort for this evening. I advise you to take advantage of this time, since it might very well be your last night together for a very long time." He sunk back down into his chair like a balloon that somebody had punched a hole in. He looked very tired and very old all of a sudden. Hermione felt a surge of guilt.

Harry got to his feet, sensing that the meeting was over. He looked over at Hermione and pulled her out of her chair as well. Without speaking, they left the room, Dumbledore giving a little wave of his hand in goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 15 - Carpe Noctem**

Harry and Hermione walked up to Gryffindor Tower in silence. Both were trying to deal with the large amount of overwhelming and emotionally straining information they had been given that day. Harry was torn between a sense of hope that he might actually be able to confront the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale and a sense of anger and disgust at the thought of Hermione sleeping with his most hated professor. He'd managed to control his feelings for a little while when they were still up in the Room of Requirement, had even managed to smile, to pretend like everything was fine, but reality was quickly catching up with him. Things were _not_ fine. For Hermione and Snape to be together was a) icky b) perverted and c) plain _wrong_. It was like a bad joke. He knew that if he was forced to accept it, if Dumbledore told him so, he would try, but it would probably be about as easy as accepting Draco Malfoy into his intimate circle of friends. His intense wish was that Dumbledore would come to the conclusion that the Pillar would be effective even if Hermione and Snape ended their affair. He realised that this was a very selfish wish, but god, how he wanted things to turn out that way...

Hermione's thoughts were similar, but a mirror image of his. She wished for nothing more than for Dumbledore to decide that she and Severus could keep on seeing each other. She wondered what Severus would say about all of this and how angry he would be that the secret was out. Would he even want to keep seeing her after tomorrow, she wondered. He'd been furious when he found out that she'd made the potion, and even worse when he'd found out that he was physically bound to her for a week. The knowledge that he was her Other in a ritual of ancient Light magic, would probably not thrill him...

They parted at the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Harry went through the portrait in search for Ginny. Hermione made him promise not to tell her about Snape and he did. She went straight to her own chambers and threw herself on the bed. She immediately noticed a note on her pillow and opened it with eager fingers.

_Stay in your room._  
Don't come to see me.  
Don't make any plans for this evening.  
Don't go down to dinner.  
Await further instruction.  
You'll like it. 

There was no name, but she didn't have a problem figuring out who the note was from. She recognised the handwriting from the scribbled notes on her Potions essays and smiled. She would see him pretty soon. She only hoped he wouldn't cancel their evening together after he'd met with Dumbledore.

Thoughts kept swirling around in her head and she couldn't seem to get them to stop. Studying didn't work at all, and not even a hot shower made her tense body relax. In the end, she just lay on the bed, staring out the window, watching the sun set. The emotional strain of the afternoon had tired her and, eventually, she dozed off, waking up a couple of hours later as an owl swept through her open window and dropped a rather big, midnight-blue box adorned with a silver ribbon on the bed next to her. She just looked at it for awhile, surprise written all over her face. Then she took the card attached to the ribbon and turned it over:

_Dinner in my chambers, 7 o' clock._  
Wear this.  
Only this. 

With trembling hands, she started to untie the silver ribbon, throwing it aside. She held her breath as she lifted the lid of the box and moved away the silk that protected whatever was inside.

A gasp escaped her as she removed the first item in the box. It was a corset, a Victorian-style corset in silver brocade. Small beads and pearls decorated the edges, silk laces adorned the back, and a little tag informed her of the proper spell to make the laces do themselves up perfectly. She touched the smooth fabric and sighed. It was incredibly beautiful, simple, yet stunning, and she couldn't wait to wear it.

The next couple of items made her blush as she removed a garter belt and a delicate thong, both made of exquisite silver lace. Then came a pair of silk stockings, so thin they were almost invisible, with matching silver lace at the top where she'd attach them to the garter belt.

Beneath them was a pair of shoes, different from anything Hermione had worn before. They had a rounded toe and a two-inch heal and were made of the same brocade as the corset and decorated with the same kind of beads and pearls. She tried them on and they immediately fit themselves to her feet. Perfect.

Just as she was wondering weather he wanted her to come to him only in her underwear, she noticed something. What she had mistaken for protection fabric in the box was really a skirt, a long, flowing silk skirt that hugged her hips snugly and caressed her legs as she moved around. A high slit went up on one side, showing almost all of her right leg as she walked. The fabric was a royal blue colour which went perfectly with the silver corset. She laid out everything on the bed and smiled. It was a wonderful gift. He'd said she'd like it and he was right. It was sexy, very sexy, without being vulgar. It was classy, tasteful and just plain gorgeous. She looked forward to wearing it.

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost six thirty. Putting on her robes, she rushed into Harry's room, interrupted what seemed to be a very advanced snogging session and begged Ginny to teach her the charm to make her hair shape itself into shiny curls. Ginny asked what the big rush was but didn't ask too many questions as Harry was nuzzling her neck to distract her and pull her back down with him on the bed. Hermione told her that she wouldn't leave until her hair looked nice and Ginny quickly crossed her floor, found her wand in the pocket of her robes, which lay in a heap by the door, and waved it over Hermione. She then demonstrated the incantation to her friend so that she'd be able to do it herself in the future. Hermione smiled and wished them a nice evening.

Her hair now non-bushy and silky, she moved into the bathroom to put on a light make-up. She hadn't worn any until this fall, when Ginny had bullied her into trying some, claiming that it made her ten times more beautiful and really opened up her eyes. Usually, Hermione still didn't bother on a day-to-day basis, but tonight, she was very grateful that Ginny was her friend.

Walking out into her bedroom, she took off all her clothes and started putting on what had been in the box. Everything fit to perfection and she realised that there must be an auto-fitting charm on the garments. Either that, or Snape knew her body perfectly - which was also a possible explanation, she smiled to herself. Closing the zipper on the skirt, she stood up, and was distracted by something glittering over at her night stand.

Circling the bed, she saw that it was a small, black bowl with something silvery glittering inside it. Reaching inside she gasped as she held up first a pair of silver earrings, then a silver necklace with sparkling blue stones set into it. She rushed into the bathroom to try them on and looked in awe on how the blue stones reflected the light, somehow making her hazel eyes look a deep shade of green and the skin around her neck and shoulders look soft and creamy. The earrings were feather light, a triangle of metal strands woven together reaching down from her earlobe. She shook her head and was pleased when they didn't make a sound.

Eager to see the final result in a full-length mirror, she walked back into her bedroom and opened the door of her closet. A wide smile spread on her lips. She looked very nice indeed. Happy, she closed the door and glanced at her watch. Two minutes to seven. With a smile, she transfigured the watch to match her clothes and stepped in front of the fire place. Casting a charm to protect her clothes against the ashes, she threw some Floo powder in the flames and watched them turn emerald.

"Severus Snape's chambers, password: Hellebore" she said, stepping into the green flames.

And with a swooshing sound, she was gone.

***

She stepped out of the fire and out on the stone floor. Looking around the room, she noticed that a table for two had been placed next to the enchanted window, which showed a panoramic view of the Hogwarts grounds under a star-filled sky. One ornate chair stood on either side of the table, on which a white, linen cloth had been spread. Several sparkling crystal glasses were lined up next to each set of plates and cutlery, and in the centre was a crystal bowl filled with red, floating roses. She counted the forks and realised that the table was laid out for a formal five-course dinner. A stand holding a bucket of ice stood on one side and innumerable candles were placed around the room. A soft violin concerto was playing in the background and, looking over at the bed, she saw that the thick, deep-green bed-spread had been covered with red rose petals. What the - ? Was she really in _Snape's_ chambers? It looked more like some overly romantic thirteen-year-old's fantasy to her...

Hearing a sound, she turned around to face the door to the office and felt her jaw drop when she saw the man coming towards her. He was holding a bottle of champagne, which he deposited in the bucket next to the table and covered with a linen napkin before walking over to her.

"Hermione, you look absolutely stunning." Snape's voice was low and husky as he reached down and took her hand, which he brought to his lips for a tender kiss.

She was too shocked to speak. Not only had his bedroom transformed itself into a showroom for Romantic Fanatics 'R' Us, but he himself... She would have giggled if she wasn't so shocked. He was wearing dress robes of silver-grey raw silk and his hair, totally non-greasy now, was tied behind his nape with a black ribbon. On his face, the sarcastic smirk he usually wore had been replaced with a look of open admiration and an appreciative smile. What the hell had happened to the surly Potions Master, she wondered.

Smiling, he led her over to the table and pulled out her chair for her. He then proceeded to open the bottle of champagne and fill both their glasses before he sat down. He clinked his glass to hers and they both sipped the cold, bubbling liquid in silence.

"Welcome to my table," he said, with a tip of his head.

"Thank you," she replied, hard pressed to hold back her laughter now. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, sir. You must be Severus' _nice_ twin." His eyes glittered at the comment.

"Indeed? What could possibly make you doubt my identity? You don't mean to imply that this,” he indicated the room and his clothes with a sweep of his hand, “is a bit, oh, I don't know, _out of character_ perhaps?" She did her very best to keep a straight face.

"Oh, no, not at all! I always assumed that there was a fluffy little romantic soul under all that black fabric." She smiled at him mischievously. "What's next? Pink, fluffy teddy bears on the shelf? A serenade to my exquisite beauty?" His smile widened.

"Well, I was considering putting a charm on the roses so that they would read sickly sweet sonnets to you while we ate, and make the bubbles in your champagne glass form messages of love as they rose to the surface..."

"And you decided not to? I'm so disappointed!" She put on a full pout and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Damn, it was hard not to smile!

"Maybe I could make it up to you? A rainbow over the table? Glittering hearts twinkling across the room? A unicorn over by the bed?" The mock concern in his voice made her laugh out loud.

"Thank you, I think I'll manage."

"Thank god, I'd like to be able to eat something tonight." He waved his wand and the top plate was suddenly filled with what looked like a shrimp and crayfish salad, with different kinds of lettuce, croutons and a lemon vinaigrette on top.

She took a bite. It was absolutely delicious. She wondered whether he'd conjured it up himself or had had the house elves make it. Putting down her fork, she looked up at him, taking another sip of the champagne.

"So just what is the purpose of this little charade anyway?"

"There are several, actually."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Well, the main objective is to convince Dumbledore of the _purity_ of and our mutual _investment_ in our little liaison, and I thought a chaste, courteous romantic dinner would satisfy him more than the other more, well, _carnal_ activities I had in mind for this evening." There was a devilish glimmer in his eyes now.

"Is he watching us?"

"Perverted old bat, isn't he?"

"But he can't hear us?"

"Obviously, as I'm talking to you about things I wouldn't want him to overhear."

"How long will he watch us before he leaves us alone?"

"Oh, I'd say until what he sees makes him feel like a dirty old man." They both chuckled at the comment.

"How about right now?" she whispered, stroking his knee with her own under the table.

"Appearances, Miss Granger," he said with a would-be-stern look. "We should at least make it through the main course before we submit to temptation. We're supposed to show some self-control and purity of mind here."

"Of course," she said lightly. "So while we sit here and enjoy our food and pretend to be the disgustingly perfect well-behaved couple, why don't we use the time to talk about some things a little more important than puppies and flowers?"

"Any particular topic in mind?"

"Yes, actually. What happened after Dumbledore called you to his office this afternoon?" She looked more serious now and felt nervousness bubble in her stomach.

"Nothing I hadn't already foreseen," was his short answer. "He did his fatherly routine and I countered with the 'I'm-not-aware-of-my-own-feelings-and-aggressive-about-it’-routine. He then, through a lot of talking and protesting, 'made me realise' my _true_ feelings about you," he grinned and speared a shrimp with his fork, putting it in his mouth. "Then, naturally, I had to do the 'No-this-can't-be-happening-to-me'-charade, which, after some tea and fatherly advice, turned into mute acceptance. I think I handled myself quite well." He smirked.

"So basically, you lied to him." She didn't look too happy.

"I thought that would be more beneficent to us than telling the truth. Gryffindors like Albus are so sentimental."

She sat silent for a while, eating her salad and sipping her drink, gathering courage for the questions she knew she must ask.

"So what is the truth?" she managed, looking up at him nervously.

"That's a very wide concept, would you care to be a bit more specific?"

"Do you love me?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it does."

"Really? In what way? Or let me rephrase the question: In what way would our relations be different if I did?" He looked at her with intense eyes. She found she couldn't answer the question.

"I never could understand why you Gryffindors are so obsessed with the notion of love," he continued, sipping his champagne thoughtfully. "You seem to think that as long as there is love, everything is just fine." He leaned in a bit closer. "Well, is that your opinion? Does love always equal happiness and a good life? Think of what you've experienced this past week..."

She remained silent for a long time, thinking things over. The second course appeared on their plates, a creamy saffron and salmon pasta with fresh parmesan sprinkled on top. Snape refilled their glasses and they shared a silent toast before digging in. When half the pasta was gone from her plate, she finally spoke.

"I guess the question of love is only important because of what it might symbolise."

"Go on."

"I think most people see love as a guarantee that the other person will do certain things, like remain loyal, be nice, try to please the other person, avoid infidelity and such..." She tilted her head to the side, trying to read his reaction but failing miserably, as usual. "It's like in the books - declaration of love equals perfect, happy life, ever after." He snorted.

"And that doesn't strike you as a bit naive?"

"I hadn't really thought about it until now. I always just assumed that was how it would work... but now that I think about it, it does seem quite naive."

"The notion of love is often tied to our expectations in life, that is true. So tell me, Hermione, what do you really want? And don't think in terms of what you _ought_ to want, think about what _you_ would really want." He'd stopped eating, she noticed, and a shudder went through her as he grabbed one of her hands across the table, caressing the fingers in the same way as he'd done nearly a week ago in the Potions classroom.

"Well..." She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat that was spreading in her through the combined efforts of his touch and the wine. "I'd want to keep studying after my NEWTS, like doing an apprenticeship. I'd like to work somewhere where I could change things, make things better. I had considered going into the Ministry of Magic, but after last year, I don't find that option very attractive anymore. Hmm... I want to keep seeing my friends as much as possible, though I imagine we'll lead very different lives once we leave Hogwarts... Ron wants to play Quidditch and Harry wants to be an Auror. I don't know what I want to be... possibly a Healer or maybe a Professor." She broke off, not knowing what to list after that.

"How about the typical dreams of young girls? Husbands and babies and picket fences and all?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know. Parvati and Lavender talk about things like that all the time, and Ginny seems to have a pretty clear picture of what she wants as well. I don't know. I never really liked babies and I don't think I'd want any. I might change my mind in say, ten-fifteen years or so, but I can't see myself having more than one or two. I've spent too much time with the Weasleys to consider having a large family. And I hate picket fences," she smiled, drawing a chuckle from him. Suddenly, something hit her. "Hey, is this one of those 'where is this relationship going'-conversations?" She threw him an accusatory look across the table.

"Hardly, as we don't actually have a 'relationship'. We just sleep together a lot."

"I like sleeping with you."

"I noticed that." He grinned and filled up her glass a third time. She was starting to feel light-headed. It was a nice feeling.

"You're very good in bed."

"Thank you."

"I don't want us to stop just because the binding breaks." There, it was out, now she awaited his reaction.

"No? And what if Dumbledore tells you that your behaviour is unpardonable and that he'll expel you if you ever come near me again while still in school?"

"He said it himself, he can't expel me while Voldemort is still out there."

"That is true, but he could give you a year-long detention with Filch, scrubbing the Entrance Hall with a tooth brush. Albus can be rather inventive at times, and I'd rather not find out the punishment he'd have in store for me." He shuddered and downed his drink in one go.

"We could be careful, only meeting in places where he couldn't discover us," she tried, wanting to find a solution.

"Wouldn't work. He can observe the entire school if he so chooses. If he's set on keeping us under observation, I doubt that we would escape. No, the best option, should we decide that we want to keep this going, is to convince him that our relations are vital to that little clever piece of magic you and Potter dug up and continue as we were with his blessing." He laughed. "God, he'd hate that!"

"Are you saying that I need Professor Dumbledore to sign a permission form, giving me the right to shag my teacher whenever I feel like it?" she asked with an innocent look in her eyes.

"Yes, something like that," he said, an evil grin on his face.

They sat in silence for a while, each thinking about the situation they were in. Severus had already pondered the problem for a while and come to the conclusion that if Dumbledore followed his sense of propriety, he would express his "deepest regrets" and stay away from Hermione. He'd be sorry to have her gone from his bed, but really, she was only a girl. He'd gone on for 38 years without her and would no doubt survive another century or so. His body would be disappointed, and he'd no doubt frequent certain establishments in Knockturn Alley quite regularly for the first month or so, but then, things would go back to normal. The effect she was starting to have on him was disquieting and he knew his brain would be quite relieved to get rid of her, despite violent protests from other parts of his body.

The revelation of their magical connection had shocked him more than the fact that Dumbledore had found out their secret. Dumbledore had explained the ancient magical ritual to him and he'd felt a trickle of undiluted fear go down his spine. If the Dark Lord ever found out about this, and found out that he knew about it, that would be the end of him. Twenty years of careful plotting would go right down the drain and he would be dead before he could even reach for his wand. His plan of not choosing a side had been taken away from him - Fate had decided that he would make a choice and play a pivotal part in the last battle. He would not stand on both sides - or on nobody's side if you wanted to see it like that - he would either complete the circle of the Four and go with the Light or break the circle and thereby rob the Boy-Who-Lived of his most powerful weapon. Either way, he would make a difference, and if the side he chose lost, he would have burnt his bridges.

He understood Dumbledore's dilemma probably better than anyone, and certainly a lot better than Hermione and her arrogant side-kick would. To them, this was a question of moral principles and school rules. He knew that that was a small concern for the Headmaster. Naturally, Dumbledore would be very opposed to one of his teacher having a sexual relationship with one of his students, but it was the fact that _he_ was that teacher and _Hermione_ was that student which really troubled him, he guessed. The chances of Hermione getting out of her "relationship" with him unscathed were miniscule and Dumbledore knew enough of his often cruel character to know that he wouldn't spare the girl pain if he ever faced the choice between her happiness and his own. He was a selfish man, whose cynicism had grown with every year of corruption and betrayal that he'd seen. She was a very young, very inexperienced and very giving girl from the House that valued love, heroism, bravery and personal sacrifice for a higher cause as the highest virtues. It could only end in one way, and it would most likely not be very pretty.

He'd told her the truth in the bathroom as he was doing up her hair. He was not, and would never be, a nice man. This dinner was a charade, complete with pretty clothes, pretty manners and pretty conversation. It was not the real him.

For a second he wondered what the "real him" was. He'd played so many roles and played them so well over the last 30-35 years that he had a hard time making out what was an act and what was part of his underlying character. He didn't even know if he _had_ an underlying character anymore, something that was part of some mystical essence, that would never change, would always be _him_ no matter what he went through. He frowned to himself. He'd always found the theory of every person as a _tabula rasa_ highly attractive, but he'd never really made up his mind on the subject...

"You never answered my question." The somewhat timid voice broke his train of thought and he focused his attention on Hermione.

"Which question?"

"Whether or not you loved me." He could tell she was nervous and it was painfully obvious what kind of answer she was hoping for. He sighed.

"Really, Hermione, what difference does it make? What do you want from me?"

"I don't know, I-I guess I just want to know how you feel about me."

"Are you sure? It might not be what you want to hear." He eyed her intently, wondering just how far her Gryffindor courage would take her. She sipped her wine and nodded, meeting his eyes.

"Alright then," he said, filling her glass with a rich red wine to go with the main course (filet mignon and garlic potatoes) that had just appeared in front of them. "Remember that you brought this upon yourself." He drew a deep breath and could almost see how the tension in her mounted with each second. He suppressed a smile.

"The truth is - since I assume that's what you're asking for, even though it's probably not what you want - that I've had a very pleasant week with you. Physically, we are very compatible and I've enjoyed our bed sports. I like pleasing you and your reactions to me are both satisfying and arousing. Your love too is very gratifying. I also must admit that I find your company quite tolerable. I'm a very private man and you annoy me very little, infinitely less so than most women I've met. You have a practical mind and you respect my privacy. You don't nag me - with the exception of tonight - to get to know my feelings and you don't try to remodel me into a knight in shining armour. Those are all things that I greatly appreciate. I can assure you, had you had the infuriating ways of most women, we would, after the first couple of days, have met only once a day for fifteen minutes to fulfil the requirement of the True Bond, and I would by now have no more interest in you than I would in the average one-night stand."

He paused to take a sip from his glass and study her face. The expression was guarded and didn't show much emotion. She looked concentrated, like he was lecturing on some new, magical substance which greatly interested her. Perhaps he was, he mused.

"I am myself very much surprised with my reactions to you. Your honesty and emotional generosity fascinate me, and there's something about you that keeps my interest alive. Physically, my desire for you is _very_ strong, which this magical connection between us illustrates. Intellectually, you're decent conversation and share many of my interests. Though you may not be among the most beautiful women I know, you have a very strong and attractive charisma - most sensual as a matter of fact." He tilted his head to the side and watched her face, trying to discern her thoughts.

"Believe me, Hermione. Were you just a pretty face, we wouldn't even be here. I've slept with many women a great deal prettier than you and I've always grown bored quickly. The magical ritual you and Potter discovered today suggests that we would be a very good match, and perhaps we would be. I have no plans of domestic life, however. Not now, not in the future. I've never felt the need to produce an heir and I doubt that I ever will. I don't like children, which is a big reason for why I'm such a pleasant teacher, as you've undoubtedly noticed." She smiled at that and he took another sip of his wine, preparing for the final blow.

"It all comes down to a few simple facts really. I've known Dumbledore for many years, and even though he is a sentimental old man, he won't give up the best chance he has at victory against the Dark Lord to protect you. He will sacrifice you for the cause, assuring the life of his _wonderful_ Harry Potter. He will swear us to secrecy and discretion and leave us to our own devices. It will weigh heavily on his conscience, but he will bear it, telling himself that perhaps, this will lead to good things in the end. That perhaps you will change me into a happy, loving man and he can come by to play with our children one day. That I will realise how lucky I am to have you by my side. That we are, in fact, soul mates and that you can't fight fate. He will monitor your happiness and you will appear happy out of fear that if you're not, he will change his decision and take me away from you."

"How is letting me be with you giving me up as a sacrifice?" Her eyes showed some fear now, mixed with hope from his words about Dumbledore's probable decision. He leaned forward and cupped her chin with one hand, gently stroking her soft cheek with his thumb, his lips but inches from hers.

"Because, my dear, the fairy tale won't happen and the loving future will never come. There won't be a glittering ring, a grand wedding and children running around in the sun. Life with me will be in the shadows, in the darkness of the night and of the soul. You will be my mistress and we will enjoy each other in every way, drawing every drop of pleasure from our bodies and minds and eventually grow restless, bored, apart. With your practical mind, you might be able to suppress your longings for a time, perhaps even for many years, but the time will come when you'll want a normal life, away from the dungeons, without secrecy. When you'll want a man to introduce to your parents, to be accepted and liked by your friends, to walk with his arm around you down Diagon Alley, proud to show his love for you to the world. Eventually, you will want the kind of self-sacrificing, identity-merging love you know I could never give you." He caressed a shivering lip with his thumb and then wiped away a tear that was rolling down her cheek.

"And when that day comes, and realisation hits you, you'll run crying away from me, clutching a shattered heart and cursing yourself for choosing the wrong man back when you were little more than a child and throwing your youth away. And I will resume my life as it was before you came into it, putting our time together behind me like a strange but pleasant dream. This is the truth, Hermione. You'll be the lamb led willingly to the slaughter, sacrificing your chance of true happiness for the good of the world, to save your best friend and to pursue an impossible love, where you'll never know if the next day will be the day when realisation hits or the day when I grow bored and discard you. Now tell me, will you accept that sacrifice?"

"Without hesitation" The words were little more than a whisper and the look he saw in her eyes then almost frightened him. It was loyalty and defiance, hope and fear, and pure, undiluted love such as he had never seen before.

Mesmerised, he stared into her hazel depths which seemed to promise him the world, before they were slowly covered with shimmering lids and black lashes and he felt her lips claim his in a fierce, unyielding kiss...

***

The kiss quickly fanned their desire and Hermione felt herself being yanked from her seat at the table and swept off her feet with such force that her chair and one of her glasses fell to the floor with a crash. The crystal shattered when it hit the stone and spread its red contents over the grey surface. Neither of them even noticed.

He carried her over to the bed, brandishing his wand and getting rid of the ridiculous rose petals before putting her down on it and covering her body with his. There was an urgency to her movements which he recognised as a sign of great emotion. In the library, she had behaved much the same, when she was trying to suppress her feelings through physical pleasure. This time, however, he had a feeling that she was doing the exact opposite – she was trying to express the depth of her emotions for him. It was really quite touching. And very unsettling.

 _“Deshabilio.”_ He felt his clothes vanish and then, as she repeated the charm, hers as well. He quickly snatched his wand back.

 _“Reverso.”_ Her clothes came back, except for the skirt, and he felt the tickling sensation of lace against his skin. She looked up at him, dismay written all over her face.

“No,” she whispered in his ear, wrestling for the wand he was holding behind his back. “I’m sure you have a lot of nice plans for me in these pretty things, but now is not the time. I want you. All of you. Now.” He yielded his wand and felt her underwear vanish a second time, leaving warm, smooth skin under his hands and body.

 _“Tactilio.”_ A red light emerged from the wand and surrounded both of them for a few seconds before it went away. In its wake was a new sensation, like every nerve in his body had suddenly become ten times more sensitive. He knew the spell, it was a Sensitivity Charm, usually used by mediwizards when they examined their patients. He’d never pictured it used in this way before, but smiled at her inventiveness.

Hermione placed the wand on the bedside table and concentrated fully on the sensations in her body. The Sensitivity Charm and the alcohol combined made her skin tingle wherever she came in contact with him. She placed a hand on his heart and felt it beat, hard and fast. She wanted more, and with a quick, fluid movement, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissed him hard and pulled him into her.

They both gasped at the contact and became very still, looking into each other’s eyes in wonder. Finally, Severus moved again, one long slow stroke, concentration written all over his face. They both let out another gasp.

“Do you feel that?” he said, his voice sounding very strained.

“It’s amazing,” she whispered back. “It’s like I can feel… I don’t know exactly… what _you_ feel I guess. It’s like I’m in both our bodies at the same time.” She moved against him and echoed his sharp intake of breath. “God, I never knew how good it felt for you when I did that.”

“I’m equally stunned,” he assured her, clasping his eyes tightly shut as he moved slowly, enjoying the double sensation. “I guess this explains why you women can’t have sex without falling in love – this is bloody unbelievable!” He kissed her hard, trying to keep control over his body as the new sensations flooded his system.

“Give me my wand.” His voice had an urgent ring to it.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly, as she ran her hands over his thighs to see how her touch felt there.

“Because unless I cast an Endurance Charm, this experiment will be over very quickly,” he said in a very dry voice. Smiling knowingly, she handed it to him.

* * *

  
  
**Chapter 16 – Rising Tension**

Ron Weasley awoke to a feeling of considerable pain and disorientation. He was very cold, his head hurt and he felt empty inside. He looked around and found that he was sitting in a small cave, surrounded by darkness. Silence was complete and he felt as though the world had ceased to be. For a moment, he wondered if he was dead.

Memory slowly came back to him and as soon as it did, he wished it hadn’t. The fight with Hermione, the traces of another man’s presence in her bedroom and the conversation between her and Harry replayed in his mind until he thought he’d go mad. He still couldn’t believe that his best friends would betray him in such a way, but what he’d seen left him in no doubt of their present relationship. He wondered how long it had been going on for. The conversation he’d overheard that morning had made it sound like last night had been their first together… His insides suddenly froze. Was that the reason she’d said she didn’t want to be with him anymore? She wanted Harry all along? He’d thought she’d been flirting with Harry to make him jealous. What if it was the other way around? Or had she gone to Harry because she was upset they had broken up? Was it a comfort-thing? A million different thoughts were flying through his mind, making his throbbing head hurt even more. He had to get some answers.

With a determined sigh, he stood up, swayed a little from the pain in his head and the soreness in his frozen body, picked up his broom and kicked off into the air.

***

A few hours later he landed on Hermione’s window sill. He’d been hovering outside for a minute, wanting to make sure that she was alone in there. Knowing that she was sleeping with his best friend didn’t mean he wanted to actually catch them at it. He jumped down to the floor and looked around the room. Empty.

He walked over to the bed and spotted a white card lying next to a box with a silver ribbon. He picked it up, not wanting to read what it said but incapable of stopping himself.

_Dinner in my chambers 7 o’ clock._  
Wear this.  
Only this. 

Rage descended on him as he crumpled up the note and threw it into the fire with a loud cry. So she’d gone to him again, had she? How could they? How could they do this to him? He remembered Harry’s fervent promises from a couple of months ago, could see him before his eyes, begging him to believe that he didn’t have a shred of interest in Hermione. Liars!

Ten seconds later, he was pounding his fists against the door to Harry’s chambers.

“Harry, open up! I knew she’s in there!” he shouted, anger having taken him over completely. He could hear muffled voices from inside the room, feet moving hastily over the floor. After what felt like a small eternity, Harry opened the door.

“Ron, please calm down, I can explain –” His hair was even messier than usual and he was wearing only his Gryffindor bathrobe. He looked very nervous.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! How could you Harry? You’re supposed to be my best friend!”

“I know, I’m really sorry –“

“Sorry?! You’re _sorry_?!” Ron let out a disbelieving snort. “Sorry doesn’t fucking cover it! Where is she?” His eyes went around the room, looking for a sign of Hermione.

“Ron, please just listen!” Harry pleaded. “I know I should have talked to you about it first, but things just sort of happened, I –“

“Just happened, eh? Seems to me like the timing was a little too bloody convenient for the two of you to just ‘start happening’! How long has this been going on behind my back?!”

“It hasn’t, I promise! We only really got together a few days ago. I wanted to tell you today, but I haven’t seen you at all. Where have you been?”

“Well, let’s just say that I happened to see something this morning that made me want to get away for a while,” he said in a sarcastic voice. Harry visibly blanched.

“Nice to know that my friends are so _loyal_ to me,” he continued. “No wonder you almost got sorted into Slytherin! For fuck’s sake Harry! She’s my –“

“I know, I know!”

“You’ve broken _the code_! That’s like the worst thing you can do to your best friend! You don’t go after your best friend’s mother, sister or girlfriend! You just don’t! Except you did,” he finished with a snarl.

“I know. I don’t know what to say.”

“Do you love her?” Harry could tell that Ron was having difficulty getting the question out, he almost choked on the words.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I know what she means to you Ron, and I’m really sorry you had to find out this way, but… what can I say? She’s a great girl, and she means more to me than I can even express. And she claims she loves me too! How could I refuse that?” He looked at him with a pleading look in his eyes. “I understand that you’re angry, and I figured you would be, but I honestly didn’t think you’d take it _this_ hard. I actually thought you’d be a little happy for us…”

“Happy?!!! Are you completely insane?!!! Why would you shagging my girlfriend make me happy?!!!” he shouted. Harry looked completely thrown.

“What?!” was the only thing he could get out. Ron looked at him with a murderous look in his eyes.

“Don’t even think about denying it!” he shouted. “I saw you together, having your sickening-sweet ‘morning after’-talk. I saw your hair on her pillow! I saw the note on her bed, telling her to come here tonight for ‘dinner’! You’re sleeping with Hermione, Harry, don’t deny it.”

“ _What?!!!_ ” came an outraged voice from the bedroom. The next moment, Ginny appeared in the doorway, wrapped only in a sheet. She had her wand in her hand and looked positively livid.

“What the fuck is my sister doing here?!!” Ron screamed as he saw her. “And why is she wearing nothing but a bloody sheet?!” Ron’s wand was out as well now, pointed straight at Harry’s heart.

“ _Expelliarmus_ ” Both of the Weasley’s wands flew out of their hands before they had even noticed that Harry had reached for his. He pointed his wand at both of them and motioned them over to the couch. They reluctantly complied, each shooting daggers with their eyes.

“Ok, let’s sort this out,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm. Ron and Ginny immediately started shouting again and he put a swift Silencing Charm on both, before he turned to the eldest Weasley.

“Ron, I assure you that I have _never_ slept with Hermione.” He then turned to Ginny and repeated the same thing. “I have broken the ‘Code’, and for that I am very sorry, but I’ve never slept with your girlfriend! It’s your sister I’m in love with,” he finished silently, looking at Ginny with glowing eyes. He then lifted the Silencing Charm and braced himself for their onslaught. None came. Ron was staring at Ginny, who blushed and averted her eyes. Finally, Ron spoke:

“But I saw your hair on her pillow and I heard you talking about having had sex this morning! How do you explain that?” he said, a challenging look on his face.

“I don’t know what you heard, Ron, but I can assure you that you misunderstood the situation. I was not in Hermione’s bed last night, and I think Ginny can back me up there.” They both looked at Ginny, who blushed again.

“I still saw what I saw!” Ron shouted, getting wired up again. “If you didn’t sleep with her, how did your hair end up in her bed?!”

“It wasn’t mine,” Harry said silently. “I can’t tell you whose it was, because Hermione swore me to secrecy. She has a lover, Ron. I’m sorry. I just found out this afternoon myself. She’s really upset about the mess she’s made of everything, but she says she can’t give it up. She actually loves the guy.” His face was stony as he said this and he had to fight hard with himself not to let the disgust he felt about Hermione and Snape surface. Ron couldn’t know. Nor could Ginny. The ritual was too important for the secret to leak out. He and Dumbledore had agreed that Ginny should be told she needed Occlumency lessons because dating Harry made her even more of a target. He, Dumbledore, Hermione and Snape would be the only ones who knew about the ritual.

“It’s Neville, isn’t it?!” Ron said with disgust. “I’ll flay that little bugger…”

“It’s not Neville,” Harry said in a sharp voice. “I can’t tell you who it is, so stop guessing!”

“Tell me!” Ron was yelling now. “ _Accio wand!_ ” His wand flew into his hand and he pointed it at Harry. “I don’t want to fight you, Harry, so just tell me who it is!”

“No.” Harry’s wand pointed back at him. “Don’t do this, Ron, please don’t.”

“ _Tarantellegra!_ ” he shouted.

“ _Protego!_ ” Harry yelled, and the curse was deflected. It ricocheted off one of the walls and hit Ginny square in the face. Her legs started twitching wildly and she fell, hitting her head at the corner of the marble table as she fell.

“Ginny!” Harry called, dodging a Jelly-legs hex from Ron as he ran to her. Ron didn’t seem to notice that his sister was lying on the ground. From the looks of it, anger had made him snap completely.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry cried. Ron tried to duck, but the spell hit his shoulder and he fell to the ground, becoming motionless. Harry quickly crawled over to Ginny and felt her pulse. It was still there and he let out a sigh of relief. Her legs were still moving, so he said a _Finite Incantatem_ and she lay still. Blood was streaming from a wound at the side of her head where she’s hit the table and he tried to stem it with a piece of cloth that he’d torn from his bathrobe. Worry written on his face, he lifted her up in his arms – sheet and all – and hurried towards the hospital wing.

Twenty minutes later, he was looking at both their faces, pale and ghostly in the moonlight. Madam Pomfrey had mended Ginny’s wound in a matter of seconds and said that she would be “as good as new” after a good night’s sleep. He’d asked her not to wake either of them up for a while longer, until he’d had the time to speak to the Headmaster. She’d looked at him in a strange way but agreed without asking any questions.

He hurriedly walked down the stairs and almost ran down the corridors to Dumbledore’s office. There, he gave a quick summary of the night’s events. The Headmaster told him to find Hermione and bring her back to his office. With dread in his heart, he walked down the steps towards the dungeons.

***

“I love you Severus,” Hermione said, as she snuggled up to him and kissed him softly, letting her tongue lazily stroke his as he kissed her back and pulled her more firmly against him. “I didn’t even think it was possible to feel this much love.”

“I know,” he answered, swallowing heavily. “I mean –” He broke off. What _did_ he mean, he asked himself. It was like his brain was surrounded by thick fog and he couldn’t think clearly anymore. His heart suddenly felt so big in his chest and he felt overwhelming happiness over having Hermione in his arms mixed with a piercing fear of losing her. He pulled her closer and breathed in the scent of her hair. He wanted never to let her go…

The thought made his insides freeze and he stiffened. He looked down at the girl who had fallen asleep curled up in his arms and a shiver went through his body. His own words from before came back to him, _”I guess this explains why you women can’t have sex without falling in love…”_ The charm had made him feel what she felt, not only physically, but emotionally as well. The feelings in her heart had been mirrored in his, and everything she’d experienced, he’d felt also. Their lovemaking had been perfection, each feeling exactly how every touch was felt by the other, both making the most of the experience.

He’d always known that he had a talent for pleasing women. He hadn’t known just how good he apparently was however. He sensed that Hermione was a special case, that not many women shared her level of passion and that not all bodies fit so perfectly against his own, but still… He closed his eyes and remembered how it had felt to move inside her, thrusting deep, hitting her most sensitive spot, again and again…

There was no doubt women had got the better deal. He’d thought they were pretty equal when he first pleasured her with his tongue and fingers, but when her first g-spot orgasm hit a little while later, he’d realised how wrong he’d been. He’d never felt anything like it, and the combined sensations of her climax and her muscles contracting around his length made stars dance in his range of vision. He continued to move inside her, stimulating her breasts as well as other sensitive parts, and the pleasure kept flooding his system. He lost all grasp of reality and any sense of himself as a separate being as they were fused together into one body, one heart, one mind. He could do nothing but moan and try to keep conscious as they climaxed, again and again. The Endurance Charm finally wore off and his release came at the same time as her fifth or sixth (he’d lost count) trip to the stars. He was vaguely aware of words falling from his lips, hands lovingly caressing her face, kissing her desperately, his heart exploding in his chest, holding her so tightly against him, she had to fight to be able to breathe.

His heart had felt so full of her, aching like a burning pain in his chest. He knew it was _her_ feelings for _him_ that he was actually experiencing in reverse, but he just couldn’t believe it. How was it possible that she could love him so much? He knew the immense physical pleasure was a big part of it, but there was another side to it as well. He’d felt her tenderness and her admiration, her fierce loyalty and the calm knowledge that he – Severus Snape – was the man she wanted to spend her life with.

He’d always despised love, purposefully staying away from it, priding himself on the control he had over his body and his heart. He’d decided to keep love out of his life and had always succeeded. Until today, when a Sensitivity Spell and a sixteen-year-old girl showed him how love felt, what he could have if he only reached out his hand to take it. It was more tempting than anything he’d ever been offered before, including the power the Dark Lord had offered him years earlier. He envisioned a life with her by his side and felt a jolt of pure happiness. He’d take her far away from her stupid friends, somewhere where they could be alone and not have to suffer other people’s idiocy. She’d make a decent work partner and he could concentrate on his work and research, perhaps having his own apothecary’s shop one day…

No. He pulled his mind away from the dangerous path it was treading and made it see reason. Allowing himself to love Hermione would be taking too great a risk. It would make him weaker, less in control, and until the Dark Lord was defeated, it was bloody suicide. His skill at Occlumency would not be sufficient to hide so strong an emotion. The Dark Lord would know, and probably kill him.

There, in the dark room, illuminated only by the fireplace and some forgotten candles, he made his decision: he would end his affair with Hermione when dawn came. He would cloak his feelings with a strong Somnium Potion and hide them at the back of his mind, disguised as a strange and somewhat unfocused dream. He’d keep his desire alive for the sake of the ritual and probably shag her from time to time when wanting her became too strong, but he’d never let her get under his skin again, not the way she had the last couple of days, and especially not the way she had tonight. He would keep his heart at a safe distance, away from her. It would all come to an end.

Trying to get control over the terrible pain that spread in his chest, he hugged Hermione closer and kissed the brown curls fiercely. He would hold her, touch her and watch her sleep for the remainder of the night, taking advantage of every minute before he’d be forced to leave her.

A couple of minutes later, somebody started knocking hard on the door…

***

Severus Snape cursed and slid off the bed, putting on a dressing robe before he walked out into his office towards the outer door of his chambers. His mood blackened with every step and he hoped it would be a student on the other side, someone he could take out his anger on and remove a large amount of House points from. Lifting his wand, he removed the wards and opened the door.

“Ah, Potter,” he said in a silky tone. “Why am I not surprised at your blatant disrespect for other people’s sleep?” His lips curled in a wicked smile. “20 points from Gryff-”

“Oh, shut it!” Harry interrupted him, _“sir,”_ he added as Snape’s eyes turned positively murderous. “It’s not like I wanted to come down here. Dumbledore sent me to get Hermione, I assumed you would know where she was.” If looks could kill, both would have been dead in an instant. They continued to glare at each other for a long time, before Snape stepped aside with a snort.

“By all means, Potter, please step inside,” he said in scathing tones. Harry quickly complied and swiftly crossed the office floor. When he reached the bedroom door, he hesitated before turning the handle and walking inside.

He stopped abruptly at the threshold, disbelief written all over his face as his eyes took in the beautiful surroundings, stopping at Hermione’s blissful, sleeping face.

“What did you expect, a pit with snake sculptures and skeletons everywhere?” Snape’s sarcastic voice came from behind. Harry couldn’t find an answer and just stood rooted to the spot as he watched Snape walk over to the bed and whisper something in Hermione’s ear. Snape’s soft caress of her cheek and the happiness that shone in her eyes as she first opened them didn’t escape his attention, and for a split second, he forgot to be angry and almost felt happy for his friend. The feeling quickly disappeared though - it was _Snape_ after all.

“Harry!” Hermione’s voice was half shock, half worry. “What are you doing here?”

Harry quickly explained the situation and repeated Dumbledore’s wish that she would come to his office as soon as possible. She looked very worried at the news and started looking around for something to wear.

“Severus, lend me your wand, please,” she said as she realised that not a shred of clothing was to be found anywhere near the bed. He came over from where he’d been standing over by the fireplace and handed it to her. With a quick spell, the beautiful clothes she had worn to dinner reappeared in a pile on top of the silk sheets.

“Harry, would you mind turning your back while I get dressed?” she asked. Harry quickly complied, his cheeks feeling very warm. “Severus, could you help me with the laces, please, I’m afraid I can’t recall the Lacing Charm…”

She expected him to take the wand and do them up magically, the way she had earlier in the evening, and let out a small gasp as she felt his strong hands on her back. Making sure Potter’s back was turned, he started working her laces by hand, stroking her shoulders and arms whenever he could.

“Lift up your hair, or it will get stuck,” he said in a would-be casual voice, throwing another look in Potter’s direction. She detected the restrained desire in his words and lifted the mass of curls with trembling hands, exposing her neck to him.

Her breathing became more difficult, both because of the corset and the way Snape was playing with the skin on her shoulders and neck. His lips and tongue were wandering over all her sensitive areas, and she pressed herself back more firmly against him as his arms came around her and caressed her breasts briefly before taking up the lacy thong and easing it up over her legs in a painfully slow way.

“There, your laces are up. I trust you can do the rest yourself,” he said in his trademark cool voice while moving the tiny knickers higher, stroking the insides of her thighs as he went.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied, trying to keep her voice equally even, one eye making sure that Harry was still facing the wall. She pressed against Snape’s upper body for leverage, lifting her hips off the bed and allowing him to pull the thong into place. It was clear he wasn’t in a hurry from the way he teased the skin on her thighs and buttocks, moving the delicate lace aside to stroke more sensitive spots. She managed not to utter a single sound as his fingers moved over the little bundle of nerves, but the way she shuddered and clenched her teeth together told him that desire was taking her over. He threw a look at Potter who was still facing the wall but looking more tense and uncomfortable with every passing minute. He smiled a very wicked smile and picked up his wand.

 _“Silencio,”_ he whispered softly, pointing it at Hermione. She looked back at him with a half worried, half grateful look in her eyes. In response, he fastened the garter belt around her hips and took up one of the silk stockings which he started to slowly roll up her leg. She shuddered and he saw her mouth open in a soundless moan as the silk caressed her soft skin. Smirking, he turned his attention to Potter.

“Tell me, Potter,” he said, keeping his voice calm and slightly bored while letting his hands run over Hermione’s smooth skin as he rolled up and fastened her other stocking. “are you still as inept at Occlumency as you proved last year?”

“Not at all, the change in teachers helped a lot,” he answered. Snape could almost see the smile on his face from behind. Cheeky bastard.

“I’m glad to hear that Dumbledore has managed to teach you at least some rudimentary protection, what with the Dark Lord dancing in and out of your mind as he pleases,” he said, pleased to see the boy’s back stiffen. Concentrating on Hermione again, he pressed her hard against him and let one hand find its way into her cleavage as the other moved downwards to finish what he started when he put on her thong.

“Worrying about what he might find about you, are you?” Harry said in a scathing voice, feeling his anger rise.

“Naturally.” He was having a hard time concentrating on distracting Potter as the girl in his arms started to shudder and arch in his grasp. God, how he wished that the stupid boy would just leave so that he could make love to her properly for the rest of the night…

Potter said something else, but he didn’t hear him. Hermione had turned around in his arms and was kissing him feverishly, pushing him back against the bed. He grabbed his wand and lifted the Silencing Charm on her with an evil smile in Harry’s direction. A soft moan escaped her before she had the time to register that she was no longer mute and Harry spun around.

They just stared at each other for a second, before Hermione blushed and jumped off the bed, straightening her skirt and walking over to him.

“Are you coming? I believe Dumbledore is waiting,” she asked in her best strict voice, very much like the one Professor McGonagall was prone to using. Harry threw Snape a last dirty look and went out after her.

Severus Snape listened to their steps as they walked out of his chambers and the smile quickly faded from his face. If the two Weasleys knew, it wouldn’t be long before the secret spread, and that just wasn’t allowed to happen. He knew that they were both lying unconscious in the hospital wing at the moment. Good, that facilitated his task. From his pocket, he withdrew a piece of parchment he had retrieved from the fire while Harry was describing the night’s events to Hermione. His eyes wandered over the words again as he repeated the things he’d have to do in his mind.

_Severus,_

_Ron and Ginny Weasley are currently in the hospital wing, recovering from a duel. Their knowledge of Hermione’s present involvement with an unknown man is deeply troublesome given their somewhat stubborn natures and deep interest in the girl’s personal life. I would be very pleased if you could help me stabilise the situation while I have a talk with Harry and Hermione in my office._

_Best of luck,  
Albus_

Severus sighed, put on his usual black robes and made his way to the hospital wing. Trust Potter and his side-kick to put them all in danger. Not this time though. It would all come to an end before morning, he’d see to that…


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 17 – The End**

Ron and Ginny Weasley were both sleeping peacefully when he reached them. They were lying in beds next to each other in the otherwise empty hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen; he supposed she’d gone to sleep after taking care of her last patients.

Raising his wand, he said a soft incantation and watched the younger Weasley’s body rise from the bed. He levitated her across the room, to a bed at the end of the ward that stood half hidden behind a screen. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he set to work.

 _“Legillimens”_ Ginny twitched a bit but didn’t wake up. He carefully worked his way through her memories, sifting out the ones that related to the knowledge of him as Hermione’s lover and the Pillar of Light. He found very little, only Harry’s admission to Hermione’s mysterious man and some conversations with Hermione herself which struck him as suspicious. Ginny didn’t know anything really, but she suspected things and that was nearly as bad, considering the nosy and determined nature of the girl. He wasn’t surprised that she was the one chosen to be the Wonder Boy’s sacred Other, they were really infuriatingly alike…

 _“Obliviate,”_ he whispered, concentrating on the memories he wanted to remove, modifying the ones around them to make each scene flow perfectly and without a trace of a crack. Ginny now only knew that Hermione had gone out with her brother and that there was some sort of problem there. Every reference to Hermione’s and Harry’s magical connection had been removed and there was nothing left to indicate that Hermione might be involved with someone other than Ron Weasley. He smiled at his success and walked back towards the more difficult case.

Ten minutes later, he had looked through the memories of the boy and was trying to decide exactly what to do with them. It was clear that the young Gryffindor was both a very jealous and a very suspicious person, with both an over-developed ego and low self-esteem. He despised him for his many weaknesses and felt a strong urge to punish him for the way he’d treated Hermione. Certainly, the girl had been equally stupid and should have had the brains to realise that Ron Weasley would be a very ill match for her, but since her stupidity had led to the potion and the potion had led to many pleasurable moments for him, he didn’t feel as strongly about punishing her as he did about the boy in front of him. Mr Weasley was undoubtedly going insane from suspicion and rejection as well, seeing how he’d spent an entire day outside in sub-zero temperatures without either food or warm clothes. He sighed, it would all have been so much simpler if the little bugger had just fallen victim to a winter storm…

He checked his watch. Dumbledore would probably keep Harry and Hermione out of his way for quite some time. He could do it, nobody would ever know… Raising his wand again, he levitated the sleeping student to a bed in a dark corner of the ward, tied his legs and arms to the iron-wrought bed with silvery ropes that came out of his wand and put a Silencing Charm as a bubble around the two of them. His hand steady, he moved his wand and the boy opened his eyes.

For a long time, they just stared at each other, loathing evident in both sets of eyes. Ron fought a little against his bonds and engaged in name-calling before finally running out of strength and slumping back against the pillows, hatred glowing in his eyes.

“What are you going to do to me?” he asked angrily and with some apprehension.

“Erase some of the more offending parts of your memory,” was the calm reply. Ron visibly blanched.

“Th-that’s _illegal_!” he exclaimed, taking up his fight against the ropes again.

“So? That’s the beauty of Memory Charms, Mr Weasley: there is nobody to either accuse or bear witness of the crime.” He smiled wickedly. “But now, Mr Weasley, I thought the stability of your brain would appreciate some answers before your memory is modified. And I must admit that I’m looking forward to seeing the look on your face when you learn the truth…”

“What truth?” Ron asked, worry in his voice now. “And why would I even consider believing something _you_ tell me?” he added, trying to sound confident. Snape’s eyes radiated anger and disdain.

“Because it relates to your _darling_ Hermione. Only, she isn’t exactly _your_ darling, now is she?” he finished with an evil grin. Ron would have sat up in bed if he hadn’t been tied down to it.

“What do you know about it?” he snarled. “I swear to you, Snape, if you have hurt her in any way –”

“Tsh, tsh, such insolence,” he said softly as he silenced the boy with a quick wave of his wand. “Typical Gryffindor behaviour.” A sadistic smile spread on his lips as he prepared for the death blow. Moving closer, he leaned down so that his face was but inches from the boy’s and said in a deadly whisper:

“ _I_ am Hermione’s lover, Mr Weasley. It’s _me_ she’s been with when she claimed to be studying or sleeping. I’ve touched her in ways you could only imagine in your most private dreams, and left her begging for more. I’ve made love to her so many times this past week that my entire body is sore from the exercise, yet should she come to me again right now, I wouldn’t deny her. It appears that her feelings for me have lain dormant for quite some time, whereas her ‘feelings’ for you were more of a childish crush that she’s now grown out of. She wants a _man_ , Mr Weasley, not some immature _boy_ who can’t satisfy her. She’s all fire and passion – not that you will ever be able to see it – and she’s made her choice. She’s chosen _me_ , and I’m happy to oblige her,” he finished with a wicked grin. Ron was looking quite green and was shaking his head in denial.

“You don’t believe me? Well, why don’t you see for yourself then?” He lifted his wand to his temple and a long, silvery strand clung to it as he took it away. Snape then placed the tip of his wand at Ron’s temple and watched how the silver moved into his skull until no trace of it could be seen. Ron immediately started thrashing around, eyes wide, then clasped tightly shut, as if he tried to block out the images that were playing inside his head.

Severus lifted the Silencing Charm on the boy and enjoyed the performance. He knew this was cruel, but he didn’t care. The boy wanted to know, well then he had to deal with the pain of the knowledge. After a while the thrashing and screaming stopped and Ron lay still, eyes wide and tears running down his cheeks. Snape figured he’d seen enough and swiftly removed the silver strand and put it back into his own head, smiling at the rush of memories.

“You’ve done something to her!” Ron exclaimed, anger rising in his chest again. “A potion or something! You’re forcing her to love you! You’re a pervert and a criminal, I’ll –”

“Silence!” Snape spat, advancing on him in a menacing way. “You’re utterly delusional if you could see what you just saw and think that that was the result of a potion or spell. Lust can be brewed, certainly, but True Love, like True Life (bringing people back from the dead), cannot be put in a bottle. And you ask yourself why she doesn’t love you?” he said in his most sarcastic voice, shaking his head to further infuriate the boy.

“I’ll talk to her, I’ll make her see –”

“You will do no such thing,” he interrupted coolly, “for the very simple reason that when you walk out of here tomorrow, you will have no memory of this conversation, nor any suspicion that Hermione is involved with anyone but yourself, though the memory of her dumping you will still be painfully intact.” He smirked and nodded his head before he continued. “You ended up in the hospital wing because of a duel with Potter over his present relationship with your sister. You were never in Hermione’s bedroom, you never overheard her conversation with Potter and you certainly never spent a full day up on a cold cliff that reasonably should have killed you. You will wake up tomorrow, feeling guilty about the way you treated both your friends, you will probably apologise and the Golden Trio will be back together by breakfast. Both your friends will know that your memory has been modified and why it was done. They will accept it and act as if it never happened. Life will go on. You’ll still be lonely and lovesick, Potter will keep shagging your little sister and Hermione will keep coming to my bed at regular intervals. Really, memory loss will be a blissful thing for you.”

And with a last smirk, he went to work, putting Ron in an unconscious state and modifying his memories exactly as he’d said he would. When he was done, he looked through his mind again, found nothing dangerous left, moved both Weasleys back to their original beds, removed every trace of his presence and walked silently up the stairs to the Headmaster’s office.

***

“Enter!” Dumbledore’s voice came from inside his office. He braced himself for the conversation that would undoubtedly follow and pushed open the door.

“Severus,” Dumbledore said in a quiet voice. “Please take a seat.” He gestured towards a squishy armchair next to the one in which Hermione sat. He complied, but wasn’t able to relax. One hand was in his pocket, holding his wand in a firm grip. You never knew what Potter might do…

“Did everything go alright?” the old man asked, pouring thick, hot chocolate into a fourth cup, which he handed him, despite Snape’s refusal.

“Like a charm,” he said dryly, which made Dumbledore’s eyes give a little sparkle in all their seriousness. The corners of Hermione’s mouth also twitched a little, but her eyes were big and sad, staring into her lap.

“I trust you, Severus,” Dumbledore said, then looked at Harry and Hermione. “Now, the only thing remaining is what to do with the two of you…”

Hermione said nothing and moved her spoon around in her cup. Harry, on the other hand, was looking from Snape to Dumbledore with suspicion in his eyes.

“I want to know exactly what _he_ has done,” he said in a voice that was louder than usual. “I want to know what all this is about, and I’m sick and tired of the two of you talking over my head like I’m not even here.”

Snape had a scathing comment on the tip of his tongue, but it was stopped by Hermione’s soft voice coming from the chair to his left.

“He’s been in the hospital wing, Harry, making sure that the secret of the light ritual is safe,” she said, looking up at her friend. Harry just looked back at her, uncomprehendingly.

“Come on!” she snapped. “Do I really have to spell it out to you? Professor Dumbledore brought us here so that Professor Snape could modify Ron and Ginny’s memories without us interfering! Professor Dumbledore has been dropping hints about it for the last 45 minutes, and it’s not like it wasn’t obvious his summons was a way to distract us from the start.” She turned to her right and met Snape’s black eyes calmly. “I even saw you retrieve the piece of parchment from the fire.”

“You knew?!” Harry bellowed, making her head snap back to face him. “You knew this bastard was going to perform illegal and dangerous magic on _Ron_ and _Ginny_ and you didn’t even try to stop him?! Bloody hell Hermione! I thought _we_ were your friends! How can you betray us like that? For _him_?! It’s disgusting! It’s –” He broke off as Hermione let out a laugh, a tired, desperate laugh.

“You really don’t understand, do you, Harry? I kept silent for _you_ , for Ron and Ginny, for the good of the wizarding world! I didn’t tell you because I knew it had to be done and that you would refuse to accept it. And I too trust Severus,” she added softly, looking up at Dumbledore, who gave her a sad but supportive smile.

“What Miss Granger is trying to point out,” came Snape’s low voice from under the window, “is that the _Pila Lucis_ might very well be the _only_ means for you to defeat the Dark Lord, and that the knowledge of the ritual’s existence and the identities of the Four must be kept from the Dark Lord at all costs. Mr and Miss Weasley are both too hot-headed and too weak to keep that knowledge safe, especially considering their personal emotions. Mr Weasley could never accept my position in the circle, and judging from what I saw when working on Miss Weasley just now, I would think her most opposed to the deep connection between you and Miss Granger as well. Your petty _feelings_ are of no consequence in these matters, Mr Potter, as I believe I’ve told you on numerous occasions,” he finished with a slight snarl. Harry just glared at him.

“Severus is right, Harry,” Dumbledore continued, fixing the boy with his bluest gaze. “We cannot let this opportunity slip us by. We are in a war, and in war, there are always sacrifices. As much as I hated to do it, I considered the violation of Ron and Ginny’s memories a rather humane one. They will be happier not knowing, and we will all be safer because of it. Can you honestly tell me that this was a decision I should not, under no circumstances, have made?” Harry sat mute in his chair, transfixed by the old man’s gaze, but his body language telling them all that he didn’t agree in the slightest. “Trust me, Harry, it was the best thing to do.”

Harry stared at him for a while longer until he finally resigned and slumped back in his chair. Hermione let out a small sigh, both in relief and apprehension.

“So, what about us?” she asked nervously, trying to keep her voice steady. Dumbledore looked at Snape for a moment and then turned to face her.

“Well, my dear, as we discussed before, I want you both to study Occlumency, along with Mr and Miss Weasley I think. You, Hermione, will study with Professor Snape, and I trust you will make every effort to acquire the necessary skills quickly. I have a plan, one which would further our cause immensely, but for it to succeed, you need not only to master the art of Occlumency – you need to excel at it. You will need to reach Professor Snape’s level, or even exceed it,” Snape gave a small snort at this, “and you’ll need to do this in an impossibly short time. I will personally test your abilities.” He looked at her with a very serious face, but his expression softened as he continued, “I knew from the start that you would become exceptional. It’s been a true pleasure to watch you grow in power and character during your years here. It’s very unfortunate that you have been forced to grow up so quickly, and like Harry, you have shouldered burdens much too heavy for you far sooner than I would have liked you to. I can see in your eyes the love you harbour for my Potions Master and it touches me more deeply than you could ever know. What I have in mind for you is not fair, and not in any way what I would have wanted to give you, had I a choice. Your path is very dark and very dangerous, but I will allow you the choice to walk away from it. If you say no to my plan, you will wake up tomorrow morning with no memory of this past week, save your normal school activities. You will be told that you need Occlumency lessons as a precaution since you are so close to Harry. Your feelings for Professor Snape will be hidden in your subconscious, since they cannot be removed, and appear to you only through strange and somewhat unfocused dreams. You would be told of the ritual when the critical moment came for Harry to use it, and it should all work out as planned. It’s a risk, I admit, but I feel you deserve the choice to choose your own path.” He broke off and looked at her, a sad expression on his face.

She swallowed hard and looked at the three men around her, tearing her eyes away from Dumbledore’s blue gaze to meet the emerald green of her best friend. He smiled at her, the same sad expression as Dumbledore wore, and she gave him a trembling smile back. He took her hand and caressed it gently, telling her wordlessly how important she was to him and urging her to take Dumbledore up on his offer of just walking away. His fear of seeing her hurt because of him was so painful it brought tears to her eyes. Finally, she turned away from him and met the eyes of the third man, knowing even before she looked up into his face what her answer must be. He read it in her eyes before she could even open her mouth and stood up, holding out his hand to her in invitation. With a nod to the Headmaster, who nodded back, his smile a mixture of sadness and pride, she took it, stood up and let Severus lead her out of the office and down the dark stairs.

***

Harry slowly turned his gaze away from the door, through which Hermione and Snape had just left. The anger that had been boiling inside him ever since he found out about their _thing_ (he refused to call it “relationship”) had just been oddly inflated. He felt like all energy had left him, like he just didn’t care anymore. God, he felt so tired…

“What will happen to her now?” He directed the words to the empty air, more like a voiced thought than an actual question. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, didn’t know if he could bear the guilt if it was something really bad.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Harry,” Dumbledore’s soft voice came from behind his desk. “I hate to keep you in the dark, and I know I promised you after last year that I wouldn’t do it again, but in this case, giving you the details could be very dangerous. Your skills at Occlumency are improving, but your mind is not yet capable of keeping information from Voldemort should he actively search for it. The connection between you is too strong and he is a superb Legillimens, as you already know. I’m afraid I cannot tell you this.” He sighed deeply and stood up, walking over to the cabinet where he kept his Pensieve.

Harry watched his movements and tried to get his resolve to overcome his curiosity. Dumbledore was right, he couldn’t protect his mind against Voldemort. Overestimating his abilities had lead to Sirius’s death. He did not want to be responsible for Hermione’s as well. Humility was a difficult lesson to learn, but he knew he had to. He might be the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, and he just might save the wizarding world from Voldemort, but he still had things to learn before he would be ready. He tended to forget that, he knew, tended to think with his heart rather than his head. Perhaps he should try to be more like Hermione, he thought, try to be calm, analysing… He sighed deeply - accepting his own weaknesses and trying to work on diminishing them was just _so_ hard.

Dumbledore, in the meantime, had brought forth the Pensieve and put it on his desk. He was studying something in it with great concentration, mumbling to himself with narrowed eyebrows. Harry just sat back and waited, breathing deeply, trying to clear his mind. He would have to work even harder on his Occlumency now, he realised.

The Headmaster pulled away from the Pensieve and looked at him. He looked very old and very tired, but there was a hopeful burning spark in his eyes. They both looked at each other for a while before the older man spoke.

“There’s something I must ask of you, Harry,” he said in an apologetic voice.

“Go on.”

“As I said, your mind isn’t yet strong enough to keep your thoughts and knowledge completely safe from Voldemort, and since you are his most direct target, it would be quite unwise for your mind to hold all the information of the ritual and…” he faltered, “…relating issues.”

“So you want to Obliviate me?” Harry asked, doing his best to keep anger from rising in his voice again.

“No, Harry, I don’t want to Obliviate you,” Dumbledore said with a tired look on his face. “You know too much, and a Memory Charm under these circumstances would need to be very powerful to work. It wouldn’t be safe, I couldn’t risk you.”

“But –”

“Ron and Ginny Weasley didn’t require anywhere near as strong charms as you would,” he interrupted before Harry even had the time to get the angry accusation out. “They will both be quite alright, I promise you.”

“Then what is your plan?” Harry asked, arms crossed over his chest in a defensive stance.

“I want you to take a Somnium Potion,” Dumbledore said gently. “Professor Snape is probably brewing some as we speak, for Miss Granger’s sake. The Somnium Potion will cloud the knowledge and feelings which need to be protected in the dream section of your mind. To an outsider, it will look like a memory of a dream, slightly erratic and clouded as dreams usually are. You alone will be able to gain access to the entire memory and be able to separate it from memories of real dreams. In the beginning it will be unfocused, but with mental training, you’ll be able to access it like any normal memory or stored information. In addition, all new information or development of the information hidden with the Somnium Potion will automatically be stored with the same kind of magical encryption. This means that you will be able to further research the ritual and practice Channelling Charms without problem. It’s the best solution I could think of – well, actually, it was Professor Snape who came up with it, but it’s really a very good plan, Harry.”

“It’s not like I have a choice, is it?” Harry said, still angry.

“No, I’m afraid you don’t,” Dumbledore replied in a low voice.

They sat in silence for another couple of minutes before Harry gave a curt nod and Dumbledore visibly relaxed a little. Walking over to the fireplace, he threw a pinch of emerald green powder in the flames and stuck in his head. He pulled out a little while later and turned to face his young student.

“The potion will be ready in about two hours, Severus tells me. He will send it directly to your chambers through the Floo network. Make sure you take it before going to sleep, it would be a shame if Voldemort got hold of your mind now that we are so close to hiding this information from him.”

“Will do, sir,” Harry said with a tired shrug and got out of the chair, sensing that the session was over. “Should I bring Ginny along to Occlumency tomorrow night?”

“Please do, and Mr Weasley as well, I think.” Harry turned and walked towards the door, but just as he opened it and prepared to step over the threshold, Dumbledore’s voice made him turn his head back again.

“Oh, and Harry…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

With a small smile on his face, Harry Potter left the office.

***

In his personal lab, Severus Snape was hard at work. Three cauldrons simmered before him as he added ingredients with absolute precision. Hermione was standing at another worktable, chopping, grinding and dicing according to his information. She had removed the blue silk skirt and put on a set of normal, black work robes. One of his, and he couldn’t help noticing the sensual way she wrapped the fabric closer against her, inhaling his scent and smiling sadly. She still hadn’t asked about the plan Dumbledore had conceived for her. Hadn’t spoken at all since they left his office, actually. He wondered if her composure was genuine or just a surface act that would fall apart eventually. He found himself wishing for time to stop and the night to go on forever, just as he had as a small child, sitting alone in the attic. Dawn would deal a cruel blow, he knew, and he hoped he would be able to take it without flinching.

The cauldrons simmered serenely, the wispy fumes just the right colour. It was time to add the final ingredients and to adapt each brew to the needs of each person. Drawing his wand, he walked first to Harry Potter’s cauldron.

Potter needed to hide knowledge, first and foremost. His feelings of disgust and dislike in relation to him would only be of good, should the Dark Lord break into his mind. The more Potter hated him, the safer he would be from his Master. Plus, he loved making the little brat miserable. Grinning, he added a few magical substances and then waved his wand, concentrating hard on all the memories the potion should envelop in the boy’s mind. When finished, the potion had turned a deep shade of green. Perfect.

He walked over to Hermione’s cauldron next. The same substances to entrap knowledge were added, but then he hesitated slightly, weighing two similar crystals in his hands. Both would affect her emotions, but one – rose pink in colour – would remove only the deepest layer of feelings, whereas the other – deep red – would remove all memory of any deeper feeling she held for him. She would still feel desire, and her body would still crave and respond to his the way it had over the past week. He would still be able to largely please her in bed, but the emotional dimension would be gone. He would never again see that deep glow in her eyes, never hear her whisper she loved him in that breathless voice that made a strange quiver go through him… He just stood there, for a long time, unable to make his decision. Finally, he closed his eyes hard, took a deep breath and let the red crystal slip into the shimmering liquid. He quickly finished the spellwork and turned his attentions to the last potion – his own.

Also here did he hesitate for a minute. He didn’t add the knowledge-related substances, for he knew that his skill at Occlumency was largely sufficient to keep those memories from the Dark Lord. It didn’t take that much skill to hide an information-related secret, it was hiding feelings, emotions and instincts that was the hard part. Should he actually fall in love with Hermione, it would be nearly impossible to hide it. The Dark Lord might not understand love, but he wasn’t so dense that he didn’t recognise it. Quite the opposite, discovering a person’s desires and emotional weaknesses was rather a speciality of his. If Dumbledore’s plan was to work, the only permissible feeling he and Hermione could share was physical desire. Plain and simple. Still, he didn’t want to cloud his mind like this. Out of all the memories from the past week, those of Hermione’s love and how he’d responded to it were the most precious ones to him. He’d caught a glimpse of a world where light didn’t necessarily mean pain. She’d shown him that he still had a softer side, or at least could have if he let her work on him for a while longer. At the same time, those feelings actually scared him to an extent that not many other things did. Things were simpler before, and now he could have that simplicity back. Why was he even debating this with himself? It was the best option all-around. It would keep him safe, her safe, the bloody Order safe, and, sadly, the infuriating Potter-boy safe. It would give him back the control he’d lost when with her. Things would be easier. With a determined look on his face, he added the same kind of red crystal to his own cauldron and ended the process with some work with his wand. He looked at the three potions: deep green, deep red and transparent purple, just the way they should be.

He bottled the potions into six flasks – two for each colour – sent one green sample up to Potter’s room through the Floo, locked one of each into a small chest, which he sent in a similar fashion to Dumbledore’s office, and placed the remaining two flasks on an empty work table before cleaning up. With a tilt of his head, he motioned for Hermione to join him in the bedroom, where he went with the potion. He heard her feet softly clap against the stone behind him as they walked through a small hallway.

***

“So?”

“So, what?”

“So, what will happen when I drink this?” she said carefully, walking over to the fireplace.

“Well, essentially, every deeper emotion you feel for me, which is not desire, all memory of these feelings and all knowledge concerning the ritual will be clouded and put in the dream section of your mind,” he said, watching her movements carefully, wondering what her reaction would be.

“Oh.” She stiffened a little and kept her head down, half turned away from him. “Will you remember?” He didn’t have to ask her to specify, the question was crystal clear in all its ambiguity.

“No, it will all stay at the back or our minds like the memory of a dream. We will be aware of the memory but unable to actually touch it, unless we really want or need to. There are certain techniques to access a clouded memory and I’ve made sure that we will always have the information we need, when we need it.”

“How?”

“I’ll still have the knowledge of the ritual present in my mind. I’m strong enough to protect it from anyone trying to break into it. I can release that information in you and Harry, help you reactivate your memories, when the time comes. If you prove satisfactory at Occlumency, I will give you back those memories as soon as I deem you skilled enough to protect them.”

“And… the other?”

“There is a way,” he said softly, “a potion can be brewed from the original sample that will work as an antidote. It will completely negate the effects of this potion and give you back all memories, just as they were before the Clouding took place. Dumbledore has the chest with these samples, and he alone will know where they are. It was part of the bargain we struck, a means for him to ensure that I won’t betray him at the last moment.”

“You betray him and he’ll give your memories back, open for Voldemort to see, and you would be killed,” she stated, still not looking at him.

“Exactly.”

“What did you get in return?” she asked.

“His promise that if we both make it through the war, the “good” side wins and the Dark Lord is defeated, he will hand the samples over to me, to do with as you and I see fit,” he declared, watching her intently.

Slowly, she turned her face, her hazel eyes meeting his own with a careful, hopeful expression.

“You mean, one day –”

“Technically, yes, though I doubt that either of us would want to go there, should the time come. I don’t believe that either of us will change much, not deep down, and tell me honestly, Hermione, would you, faced with the conscious and emotional-free choice, _choose_ to love _me_ , knowing what our future would be like? It would be a fool’s choice, and, if anything, I’ve never thought you a fool.” He stood right in front of her now, his body inches from hers, his hand longing to touch her as he forced them to be still behind his back.

“No, I probably wouldn’t choose you under those circumstances, Severus,” she said with a trembling voice, “and the worst part is that I fear that it would be the biggest mistake of my life, and I would make it without even being aware of that!” She raised her hand and stroked him gently with her fingertips along his face, brushing away a strand of black hair. “I know you don’t love me, and I know that you wish you’d never been stuck with me in the first place, but I can’t help feeling that we could have something really great together. I _love_ you, Severus. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this way. I’ve never been overly romantic, you know, not really. I had some foolish, childish dreams about what love would be like, taken from fairy tales and other girls’ stories, but this is nothing like that. This is _real_. When I’m with you, it’s painful and frustrating and uncertain, but it’s the most happy and at peace I’ve ever been. When I wake up in the night and see you sleeping next to me, there’s this deep glow in my heart, a feeling of being right where I’m supposed to be. I don’t love you so that you will love me back, I don’t love you to gain anything. I don’t even love you for my own pleasure. _I just do_.”

“Hermione, I –”

“Shh, you don’t need to say anything.” She led him over to the table and picked up the two flasks, handing him the purple and uncorking the red. “How long before it takes effect?”

“One hour, and you should be asleep when it does, to make the transition easier, so there’s a sleeping component in it assuring that you will be,” he said, uncorking his own flask. He felt like there was something important he needed to tell her, but no words came to him. He held the flask in a cramp-like grip as he raised it in the way of a toast. “To a botched-up love potion,” he said, the spark in his eye mixed with complete seriousness. “This has been an incredible week, Hermione, in every way.”

“To a botched-up love potion,” she echoed, tears threatening to escape her eyes as they both threw back the potion. Holding the empty flasks, they looked back into each other’s eyes and Hermione first articulated the mutual thought.

“Take me to bed, Severus,” she whispered, letting her flask fall to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces, and stepping into his arms. Without a word, he swept her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.

***

He put her down on the rumpled sheets and lay down at her side, looking into her face. He slowly moved one hand along her body, undoing buttons and letting the robes fall open to reveal the silver lingerie she still wore. Placing wet kisses along her throat and collarbone, he made his way towards her neck and upper back, rolling her over on her stomach to get better access to the laces of her corset. He undid them with one hand, the other caressing lower, stroking her ass and thighs, while his lips continued to travel over her soft skin. She didn’t make a sound, but the way her body trembled told him she was incredibly tense. He sincerely hoped she wouldn’t cry. He hated and despised crying women, unless, of course, it was he who’d purposely made them cry, in which case it made him feel very powerful.

He pulled the laces out of the last couple of holes and removed the corset altogether. The silk laces still in his hand, he ran them across her body experimentally. She gasped and rolled over on her back, facing him.

“So, what shall I do with you, Miss Granger?” he asked silkily, letting the fabric circle her breasts and snake down her stomach. She moaned and then murmured something indistinguishable. He leaned down so that his lips almost touched her face, almost brushing the soft tiny hairs of her cheek.

“Pardon? I’m afraid you’ll have to enunciate a lot better than that if you want to have a chance of achieving your goals,” he whispered, taking extra care to tease the soft flesh at her neck as his lips wandered south. Two hands grabbed his face a few inches from her right breast and pulled him north again to face her.

“I don’t care. I just want to feel you,” she whispered, lips almost trembling as she pulled him close for a kiss.

He grinned to himself as an idea of what he would like to do to her formed in his head. Distracting her with hungry kisses, which became steadily more heated, he stroked the skin on the inside of her arms, first one, then the other, moving them slowly until both her hands were placed above her head. With equal nonchalance, he grabbed the laces from her corset and tied her to the headboard of the bed with swift, expert movements. Hermione let out a gasp and opened her eyes to give him a look that was half fear, half arousal when she realised what he’d done. She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly silenced her with another searing kiss.

“You said you wanted to feel,” he said, playing with the sensitive skin on the inside of her arms, “and the best way to do it is to block out the other senses…” Reaching over to the bedside table, he withdrew a black silk scarf and carefully tied it over her eyes. “Relax,” he whispered, stroking the tense muscles in her shoulders and arms, “I assure you that you will like it.”

She let out a little laugh. “I’m sure I will. I actually had a dream like this once.”

“Did you now?” he replied with a chuckle. “My, my, the proper Gryffindor Head Girl… Who would have thought?”

“Yes, a kinky dream would undoubtedly be the most shocking part of my recent behaviour,” she said in sarcastic tones, inhaling sharply as his mouth wandered down across her stomach, one hand circling her breast teasingly.

“Tell me about the dream, Hermione.”

At first, she hesitated, embarrassed to talk about it, but he insisted and she shakingly began to tell the story of the unseen man. He re-enacted the dream as she spoke, rolling her on top of him, her back to his front, to give the illusion that he was standing behind her. Following every detail of her story, he let his hands play with her sensitive flesh until she thrashed on top of him, stimulating all his sensitive areas with her wriggling, as he kissed her hard to silence her moans, just like she’d told him to.

***

Sometime later, she was resting against him, unbound, her head on his chest, his arms around her. She was starting to feel very sleepy and guessed the hour must be almost up. She half-panicked and looked up into Severus’s face. His eyes were closed, and judging from his deep and even breathing, he was either asleep or well on his way there. No! It couldn’t end here! Not after this, not after what he’d just said!

She thought back, trying to remember. Everything was so clouded, all warped up in a haze of colours and sounds and emotions. She concentrated on those last moments of their lovemaking, the tension building, Severus moving hard on top of her, the ragged breathing and mindless sounds that escaped them both, his eyes looking deeply into hers, burning, changing, so black… words swirling in her head, ‘ _I love you, love you, love you’_ , going in circles, building, changing… her heart beating hard and fast, his joining the same rhythm, her lips moving, words escaping her, not caring, getting closer and closer, seeing the same thing in his eyes, tension building, her head trashing from side to side, feeling her muscles tense up, her hands holding him so hard it should be painful, not caring… crying out, waves breaking, head swirling, unaware of what’s real and what’s not, lights dancing before her eyes, him still moving, taking her further, light changing to colours, to black, back to colour… and then, her own voice, like from a place far away, “ _I love you… mine… Severus…love you… can’t –_ ” His voice mixing with hers, barely recognisable through the haze surrounding her, _“Hermione… gods… so soft… mine -”_ , before capturing her lips, kissing her like he’s never kissed her before, collapsing on top of her, fighting for air, still kissing her… his hands coming up to touch her face, her hair, such a tender touch… opening her eyes, meeting his, seeing that same deep light she’s seen in them once before, not able to place it, the look doesn’t make sense, hearing her own breathless voice again, almost a whisper, _“I love you. It’s you and me. Forever.”_

 _“Forever,”_ he echoes, taking her lips again as she whirls into oblivion.

The scene replayed in her mind again and again, as she tried to make sense of it all. What had he meant? What did he feel? Would it even matter now that the clocked ticked and the potion would end all in just a few minutes? Her eyelids felt like lead and her limbs were heavy and immobile. Her mind was getting hazier by the minute and she had difficulty keeping her train of thought.

“Severus!” Her voice didn’t want to work either and she forced her tongue into motion.

“Hrm?” a deep growl came from above her head.

“There’s something I just need to know,” she said, blackness now filling the edges of her vision as she fought against the narcotics in her system.

“What is it?” His voice sounded strained as well, though more awake than her own, she thought. Steeling herself, she managed to get the four trembling words out.

“Do you love me?”

He went very still, even his breathing seemed to stop as he contemplated her question. The silence grew while he searched his mind and heart, the moment of truth upon him as well as upon her.

When the whispered answer left his lips, she was already asleep.

THE END


End file.
